


Rock Bottom

by animmortalist



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Costume parties, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Gen, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, Laser Tag, Mutual Pining, Painnnnnn, Ridiculousness, Slow Burn, like molasses, lots of dumbassery, some b.echo and z.aven, tw mentions of drug addiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 99,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24342121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animmortalist/pseuds/animmortalist
Summary: Echo and Bellamy get engaged, and it sets off a series of events Clarke could never predict. One moment, she’s sobbing about her supposed unrequited love for Bellamy, and the next, she and Murphy are kissing. It turns out while she’s been pining, so has Murphy, for Raven. The two decide if they’re gonna be heartbroken, then they might as well rely on one another at the same time. In a move that will impact the entire group in unexpected, drama-filled, and wild ways, the two decide, “fuck it,” and become friends with benefits. After all, what’s the worst that can happen? As it turns out,a lot.*on hiatus*.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Clarke Griffin/John Murphy, Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller (minor), John Murphy/Raven Reyes, Monty Green/Harper McIntyre (minor), Octavia Blake/Lincoln (minor)
Comments: 331
Kudos: 594





	1. Do You Like Pain?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so....guess who's back (back again)?? 
> 
> look, I tried to escape bellarke and fic, but in the end, I can't. so I am accepting my fate. this fic really is my baby, the first one I ever published, and while I am immensely proud of what I managed to accomplish with it, I knew when I decided to repost it I would be editing it _a lot_. some edits are big, and some are small. I will say though, that fundamentally, the story is still the same in the most important ways. 
> 
> thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy it. feedback, constructive criticism, etc are always appreciated. but any hate will be deleted and/or ignored by me. I know this story isn't everyone's cup of tea, and that's all good, but please keep any negative opinions to yourself. they don't help anyone. 
> 
> a million thank yous for those who read this fic before and have motivated me to repost it 💖

It started with Bellamy getting engaged.

Clarke had known it was coming, so she was as prepared as she ever could be. She’d been the first person Bellamy had told, so she’d had plenty of time to convince herself she could accept it. She even went through something that suspiciously felt like the Five Stages of Grief. In the end though, that didn’t stop her from blubbering like an idiot over someone she never even dated. 

Bellamy was her best friend. Her person. Really, the closest thing to family she had since everything with her mom had happened three years ago. She just couldn’t believe that it was real.

That Bellamy and Echo were getting _married_.

When he first introduced her to the group, Clarke figured she’d last a month, maybe two. Gina, who she immediately liked, only lasted three months. But a month became two and then six. Then it was two whole years. Eventually, Clarke’s friends became Echo’s friends. Even she had to admit that while the other was a little hard to get to know, she was good for Bellamy. And a killer beer pong partner. Despite loving Bellamy (and knowing he would never love her back) she did her best to like Echo.

And she _was_ happy for them. She told this to herself as Echo flashed the ring around the room. She repeated it over and over. Like a mantra. Especially when Bellamy swept Clarke into a hug and whispered a ‘thank you’ just for her. She even said the words. To both of them. Honestly, she deserved a prize.

Bellamy pulled Clarke into the kitchen to help get some glasses for drinks, and she prayed he wouldn’t bring up the wedding. At some point, she was sure she’d have to deal with the details of it. For now though, all she wanted was to pretend it was happening so far off in the future that it was nothing but a vague concept of a thing.

“Hey, can we talk?” he asked as she was about to go back out into the living room.

She swallowed, fearing that somehow her lying hadn’t been enough. That he’d finally figured out how she felt about him. Preparing herself for the worst, she swallowed and gave him as easy a smile as she could.

“Sure,” she said, hoping her voice came out much less strained than it sounded to her.

She knew she’d failed when she saw concern etched across his brow.

“You okay, Clarke? I know this is a lot, and you and Lexa didn’t break up that long ago and I just…”

“I’m okay,” she pushed out. She took a breath to buy herself some time. “This is fine, okay? I’m fine.” He didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t give him the room to ask how she was doing a second time. Clarke wasn’t sure if she could lie to him again. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

“I don’t want anything to change,” he let out. Then he shook his head. “I know that that’s probably stupid, but—”

“It’s not,” she assured him. “Though perhaps a bit of a weird wish considering you’re embarking on a _huge_ change.” She forced herself to smile a bit once more. 

Part of her heart stuttered that maybe Bellamy was having second thoughts. She squashed it as soon as she thought of it though. There was no point in thinking that kind of thing. It would only break her heart even more.

“I know,” he laughed, a little dry. “I guess what I mean is...You’re important to me, Clarke.”

“Oh, good,” she couldn’t help but deadpan. “I was starting to think I didn’t matter at all.”

“Very funny.” He shook his head. “Let me get this out though, okay?” She nodded. “Thanks. Look, even though Echo and I are engaged now it doesn’t have to change anything between us, right? I mean, you’re still my best friend. And I know I can’t promise things won’t change, I guess, but if I start being a crappy friend, please, let me know, okay? And then I’ll try and get back to being a just-okay friend.”

She laughed, unable to control herself. God. It was a miracle he didn’t know how she felt. “You’re still my best friend, too, Bellamy. And trust me, if you start slipping, I’ll be the first to tell you.”

He snorted. “I knew you’d say something like that.”

Clarke felt the moment shift a little, and felt the pressure of unsaid words. But they would have to go unsaid forever now. The room felt hot and claustrophobic, and she needed to get out of there. 

“Come on,” she said, tilting her head towards the door to the kitchen. “Let’s get these glasses out there before they start drinking straight from the bottles.”

He tsked his tongue against his teeth. “Remind me again why our friends are such heathens?”

She shrugged. “It’s a Saturday. They’re your friends on Saturdays, remember? It’s in our custody agreement.”

He laughed. “Ah, yes, how could I forget?”

“Don’t worry.” She forced a grin but found it didn’t take as much effort as she expected it to. “I’ll always be here to remind you.”

He smiled at her and she was grateful he didn’t know how her heart slammed in her chest. “I’m counting on it.”

After that, Clarke did her best to maintain as much as she possibly could.

But she knew that her composure couldn’t last. She felt it in the kitchen, and as it built over the course of the hour. Eventually, she was gonna break. And, shit, did she ever.

It happened so fast, she didn’t think anyone noticed. Rather, she hoped they didn’t, desperately. Ultimately, it was Harper’s fault. Though, of course, she didn’t do it to hurt Clarke. No one knew how hung up on Bellamy she was. And if she wanted to keep him in her life, then she knew she had to keep it that way.

Everyone was drinking, beer, and wine, mostly, and sitting out on her and Bellamy’s patio. The one that she’d painstakingly spent gardening the spring and summer after she quit her residency. Echo was in his lap. Which wasn’t what upset her. They were an affectionate couple. It was what Harper said, or rather suggested.

“So,” she said, grinning around her glass of rosé. “Is it too early to be thinking about little Bellamys running around?” 

Everyone laughed. Including Clarke, though it nearly killed her to do it. No one noticed that it was her fake laugh, the one she reserved for her mother’s dinner parties and galas—when those had still been a thing, years ago now. Except maybe Murphy, which made her squirm a little. He’d been shooting her this _look_ all night, and been following her around. Hell, she was lucky he hadn’t trailed into her bedroom after her. Lest she not be able to have her cry fest in peace.

Echo had shaken her head, but she was smiling. “We haven’t, really, uh, talked about that yet.” But Bellamy ducked his head. He was blushing. Which was, fuck, which was maybe the most adorable thing she’d ever seen.

They all made this _mmmm_ sound that made Clarke want to burn down her and Bellamy’s row home. The one they’d moved into after Miller and Jackson moved in together and Wells joined Doctors Without Borders. Becoming roommates had been so easy, but now, she was regretting it.

Not long after that little tidbit of information was shared, she made some excuse. She wanted to get another beer, she had a headache and needed some Advil, anything to get her out of there. She couldn’t even remember what she’d said, only knowing that she hoped everyone was too distracted celebrating to see the truth through her lies. The minute she closed her bedroom door behind her, she sat down on her bed and just cried.

She was doing her best to be quiet. But she couldn’t get that stupid image of a little Bellamy and Echo out of her head. The kid would be absolutely gorgeous obviously. Tall and bronze skin and maybe Bellamy’s freckles and Echo’s piercing eyes. The thought sent her on a new round of sobbing, which made her almost miss the light knock on her door.

Fuck. Quickly, she scrambled up from the pillows and wiped at her face. Not that it would do any good. It was probably Bellamy, wondering what was holding her up. Her mind whirled with how she could possibly explain her current state to him.

Maybe she’d say something about missing Lexa. They had only broken up three months ago. And he always got that funny look on his face whenever the other woman came up. As much as she would hate herself for it later, it did give her a little thrill. Like maybe he didn’t like her not only because she’d screwed with their weekly game night.

“Come in,” she said, her voice shaky. She hated herself for it. Maybe she would be lucky, and it would be Raven or Monty.

Who she was not expecting; however, was Murphy.

He took in her appearance and immediately got this sheepish look on his face, and stuck his hands in his pockets.

“Bellamy asked me to find you,” he said.

She let out a dry laugh. “Of course he did.” 

This sent her spiraling once more, and she was sure it would terrify Murphy. He had just gotten out of a four-year-long relationship with Emori. Now, he seemed dead set on avoiding any emotion like the plague. She figured she would send him running.

Instead, she felt the bed dip a little. Then, even more shockingly, she felt his arm come around her shoulders.

She brushed the tears from her eyes and looked up at him. “The fuck are you doing?” 

He smirked. “That’s no way to treat a friend who’s trying to be there for you in your darkest hour.” 

She had to laugh at that. “I would say this is hardly my darkest hour.”

He simply raised a brow at that, and she chewed on her lip. A minute passed between them. She felt so goddamn tired. That was her excuse for letting herself rest her head on his shoulder.

“Alright,” she finally said. “You might be a little bit right.”

“A little?” he asked.

“Don’t push it,” she shot back.

She felt him laugh and actually, hell, she couldn’t believe it, snuggled into his side. 

“Does everyone know?” she asked.

“Know what?”

She jabbed his shoulder with her pointer finger. Her eyes rose to his, but she quickly looked away. She had never seen Murphy look at anyone with pity before. And she wasn’t in the mood to be the first.

He breathed out a sigh. “I don’t know. I mean, obviously, being the genius that I am,” she scoffed at the word genius, but he continued, “ _I_ figured it out. I think Miller might suspect, but it’s Miller, dude’s not gonna say a word. Besides, I didn’t realize how serious it was until you and Lexa broke up. You weren’t even bummed. Just a little weird around Bellamy.”

She winced a little at that. It was the truth.

* * *

Coincidentally, she and Lexa broke up a week after Bellamy told her he was proposing, so she was sure her weird behavior could be dismissed by everything happening at once. But the truth was that they had broken up _because_ of Bellamy. Lexa had been kind about it all, really, but she told Clarke that if this relationship wasn’t going anywhere, then she needed to end it. She could hardly blame her, it was the truth, after all. As much as she cared for Lexa, maybe even loved her, Bellamy would always be there. 

And she was gonna admit it too. Even if it burned her life down. Even if it meant that she and Bellamy weren’t friends anymore. But a part of her, a stupid part, she now thought, believed that he’d feel that same. That he’d sweep her into his arms and almost kiss her, but pull away at the last minute, and say, “I’ve gotta talk to Echo first, but after that, I’ll kiss you until our lips don’t work anymore.”

And that would be the beginning.

But then she’d come down to the kitchen and he was staring at that stupid ring, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“What’s wrong?” she had asked. She still hadn’t told anyone about Lexa. She wanted him to be the first.

He rubbed the back of his neck like he did whenever he was nervous or embarrassed, “I just...” He looked at her, a little odd for a moment, with an expression she couldn’t quite place. But then he cleared his throat and went back to looking at the ring.

“I just wanna do this right,” he said.

And she knew she couldn’t tell him, not then, not ever. He wanted Echo. He was _in love_ with Echo. Hell, he was giving her his mother’s ring. You didn’t do that with a girl you didn’t want to spend the rest of your life with.

So, she had offered a winning smile, and said, “I bet there’s a fifty-seven percent chance you don’t totally fuck it up.”

He laughed at that, and she tried to ignore the way her stomach did a little flip. God, she was pathetic. “That’s generous.”

“You know me, I live to give.” She paused and then softened, “Come on, it’ll be perfect because it’s you.” She was serious all of a sudden and felt herself nearly melt into his brown eyes. She had to look away.

“You’re probably right.”

“Oh, I _know_ I’m right,” she said.

Then she bumped her shoulder against his, and said, “I’ll make the coffee, you get the bacon.”

* * *

Murphy was rubbing the bare skin of her shoulder. Right where the strap of her sundress ended. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, and murmured, “It’s gonna be okay Griffin.”

Her tears had dried by now, though no doubt her eyes were still red, and she didn’t feel like going back out to the party.

He swallowed and looked down at her. “I’m really fucked up about Emori.”

Her eyes widened a little at that. She didn’t know he’d ever want to discuss it. Though the two had been civil at game night and the party, they were still very much awkward around each other. So much so that she suspected Emori’s leaving the party early had little to do with an issue at the kickboxing gym she ran and a lot to do with her and Murphy.

“I know I haven’t...Shit, I know I haven’t shown a lot of _anything_ recently, but I thought that everything was fine. I mean, things were rough for a while there and then we had to take a break. Which I know was mostly my fault. But we were getting it back. Getting back to normal. And then she just accuses me of...” he trailed off and he didn’t sound like he was going to continue, but she got the sense that wanted to.

“What?” Clarke asked.

He blew out a slow breath. “I think I might love Raven,” he said.

She adjusted her head on his shoulder. “We all love Raven,” she said wryly.

“No, I mean. Fuck, I can’t believe I’m telling you this. And half sober too. Really, forget it. It’s nothing.”

She took his hand in hers and wove their fingers together. It took her a couple of minutes before she had the guts to ask him.

“Do you think you love her like I love Bellamy?” 

It was the first time she’d said it. To herself. To anyone.

Murphy scoffed. “Maybe not as pathetically as you do. I mean, I don’t think my ideal date is pizza and beer and a history documentary.” She grunted in protest, but he ignored her. “But yeah, I guess. I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

She didn’t know what to do with _that_ information. It felt like all too much, on top of her own feelings. The idea that Murphy could love Raven had never occurred to her, but now that he’d told her, it had her rethinking everything she knew about the two of them. But Raven and Shaw had been together for nearly a year, she had never seen Raven so happy. Maybe Murphy was the only one that understood how she was feeling.

“The heart is an idiot,” she told him.

He snorted. She moved her head from his shoulder, her eyes searching his. For what, exactly, she had no fucking idea.

“Murphy....” she said, but it sounded awfully like a plea.

He licked his lips and his eyes drifted to hers. She did the same. Something changed in the air between them, and she knew it was wrong, but...It felt good.

Murphy cleared his throat. “This is a horrible idea.” 

“The worst,” she agreed.

“I mean, we are in no position to...You know.”

She nodded, her eyes still on him.

“We would be the biggest idiots in Arkadia.”

“Probably the state,” she replied.

“Okay, so we won’t.”

“Okay,” she said, turning away from him, lifting her head from his shoulder. His arm dropped.

They sat side by side for a minute. She swallowed loudly and he rubbed the bridge of his nose. He turned to her and then faced forward. And then did it once more.

After a beat, when she was about to suggest they go back to the party, he said, “Fuck it.”

He turned, and she turned and he slid a hand across her jaw, tilting her head up. Then they were kissing. It was not a graceful kiss. It was sloppy. And intense. Probably because they were both starving for something, anything to take away the pain they were feeling. They both knew the ache each one of them felt, not for each other, but for a connection, all the same. 

She scrambled into his lap and rubbed her hips against his. He moaned, audibly. Probably loudly. But she didn’t care. Because she wasn’t crying anymore, and she wasn’t thinking about Bellamy fucking Blake.

She felt his hands burn into her hips they gripped her so tight, and even though she repeatedly ground down on his growing erection, he wasn’t moving to remove the barriers between them. So, she did. All she had to do was do away with her underwear. Murphy broke the kiss as she did so.

He started to shake his head. “Clarke...You were crying about another dude like five minutes ago.”

“Exactly,” she breathed out, her hands on his belt. Once she had tossed it to the floor, she kissed him again. He didn’t make any moves to stop her, so she took that as an encouragement and started working on his zipper. “And you were just moping about another woman. Two women, really. So, we’re even. Hell, if anything, you’re one-upping me.” She crashed her lips against his again.

When they broke for air, he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Are you sure?” he asked, a little out of breath. 

She felt relieved. Her own chest was heaving. She hadn’t been with anyone since Lexa, and though he wouldn't say it, she suspected it was the same with him and Emori. Nodding, she brought him in for another kiss, this one softer, as if to tell him: _it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay._

He didn’t stop their movements after that. It was quick, and kind of dirty, and not at all the kind of sex she usually had. Which was exactly what she needed. She didn’t want to be made love to. She wanted to be fucked.

Later, she was still in his lap and they were kissing lazily. She giggled a little bit and started kissing his neck. It felt nice. To have someone. Even if it wasn’t the someone she wanted. And that she wasn’t the someone who _he_ wanted. At least they were able to find comfort in one another, or rather, she hoped he felt comforted too. Not thinking about it too much (really, she hadn’t been thinking at all since Murphy kissed her) Clarke started placing a hickey that Murphy could easily hide, just below his collar bone. 

Then she felt him tense, and heard him say, “Oh fuck.”

He actually _threw_ her out of his lap and onto the floor, scrambling to get his briefs and jeans up. She glared at him from where she had landed on the carpet.

“Jackass. What the fuck is your....” 

And then she noticed the door had been flung open. Every single one of their friends was on the other side. They were all gaping at them as if there weren’t words for what they were seeing. Maybe there wasn’t. Matching expressions of shock written across their faces. It would’ve been hilarious if it was under any other circumstances.

It was Octavia who spoke for all of them. “Oh. My. Fucking. God.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading ❤︎
> 
> special shout-out to shae (@shaeheda on twitter and tumblr) for all of her amazing support as I wrote and rewrite this fic)
> 
> find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)


	2. Take a Good Look at My Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello loves! here's the second chapter, which deals with the direct aftermath of where we left off in the first.
> 
> thank you so, so much for the lovely response I've received thus far. it really means so much to me and I'm so thankful to have such amazing readers. 
> 
> *chapter title is from 'The Tracks of My Tears' by Smokey Robinson and the Miracles

“Oh. My. Fucking. God,” Octavia said, again. As if the first time hadn’t been enough.

“You said that,” Clarke replied, her voice flat.

Murphy didn’t know how she was holding it together. Her composure challenged that of a world leader in wartime. They’d only been, fuck, he couldn’t believe he was using the word _discovered_ , but he was, moments before. Already she had tucked fly away hairs behind her ears and she was standing now, her back straight. Though he did notice how her eyes scanned the floor for a moment before she focused on their friends. It dawned on him. Her fucking panties. Shit.

He was still trying to swallow the lump in his throat. Because Raven was seething. Staring at him with murder in her eyes which he hadn’t seen for years. It kind of thrilled him though, and he smirked a little bit. Which didn’t do any good because if she was pissed before she was seconds away from throttling him now. He risked a glance at Bellamy, finding it hard to meet anyone else’s eye. His arms were crossed like he was disappointed in Murphy and it could’ve been the intensity of the situation but there was something else too. At Murphy's smirk, his jaw clenched, and he took note that Bellamy hadn’t yet looked at Clarke.

“It’s not what you think,” he blurted out.

That got them talking. All of them. At once. Octavia threw up her hands, spewing curses, and Lincoln gave a worried look in her direction. Harper’s eyebrows shot up. Jasper’s goggles nearly fell off his head. Monty actually put his head in his hands. Meanwhile, Miller just shook his head, causing Jackson to reach for his hand, and Raven looked like she was holding back a snarl, which Shaw had no idea what to do about. He didn’t risk looking at Bellamy or Echo. Turning to Clarke, he was about to beg for help and saw Echo place a hand on Bellamy’s arm out of the corner of his eye. If it had been any other situation, he would’ve scoffed and shook his head. He could barely make out what they were saying, but it was a lot of, ‘fuck’ and ‘love’ and ‘holy shit’ and ‘idiots’ and 'what about game night'. The last one was, of course, from Jasper.

Clarke’s mouth fell open and she shot him a glare so icy it nearly made him almost shiver.

“Murphy doesn’t know what the hell he’s saying,” she said. He was grateful for that. He started nodding without meaning to, realizing that their friends might’ve believed he meant that he and Clarke were actually _together_.

Clarke closed her eyes and squared her shoulders and she jutted out her chin like she always did when she knew she was going to win an argument.

“Give us a couple of minutes, and we will explain everything.” He watched as her eyes scanned each of their friends' faces, and saw how she faltered when Bellamy still wouldn’t look at her. “Alright?”

It seemed everyone except Octavia had lost the ability to speak once again.

“Fine.”

The door slammed behind Miller. Fuck, _Miller_ was pissed. They were hopeless.

“Where are my underwear?” Her eyes were frantically scanning the floor.

“What are we gonna say?” he asked.

She just kept looking around the room, like they hadn’t been caught practically doing it by all their friends and the separate people they happened to have fallen for moments before.

“They're blue with little daisies on them. Seriously, where the hell are they?” she asked, not even looking at him.

“Clarke.” He grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at him. “What the hell are we gonna do?”

She looked fleetingly at the door. “I had to buy some time, for us, to you know, stop freaking out.” 

He snorted. Like that was gonna happen.

“Ah-ha!” She said, finally locating her panties like it was the goddamn Golden Fleece. What? Those Percy Jackson books were good, okay? The thought sent him into nerves once more, as he remembered it’d been Bellamy who gave him the first one.

“Great, now that you’re fully clothed,” at that she rolled her eyes, but he pressed on, “can we talk about what the hell we’re gonna say to them?”

“Well,” she said, “I might already have a plan. At least, the beginning of a plan.”

He scoffed. Of course, she did.

She swallowed. “I don’t know if you’ll be down for it.” Chewing on her lip, she avoided his eye. 

He rolled his eyes. “Seriously, a minute ago I was inside you and now you can’t even look at me?” 

She heaved out a sigh and stared up at him. “There, I’m looking at you. Happy?”

“Overjoyed,” he deadpanned. “So, this plan of yours?”

“Right...It’s...Well, it only works if...If you wanna keep doing this. And act like this has happened before.” She said gesturing between the two of them as if they were Dance Dance Revolution partners and hadn’t just screwed.

It took him a moment to realize she was serious. “Wait, you wanna keep doing this?” 

She shrugged. “I mean...It was fun, right? And it got my mind off things.”

He laughed. “Ah, so you wanna use me for sex, is that it?”

She scrunched up her nose. “Maybe a little? Does that make me a terrible person?”

“Hell no,” he said. “In fact, I think I like you about three times as much just because of that alone.”

“What else contributed to the sudden spike in my popularity?” She raised a brow.

“Well, the sex wasn’t all that bad.”

She shook her head and sighed. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea after all. Maybe we should just tell them the truth.”

"Oh, you mean how you were crying over Bellamy getting engaged and I was being an emo little shit about Raven? Let's be honest, Clarke, they're not gonna be satisfied with us saying that it happened for no reason. Besides, like you said, it _was_ fun." He smirked at her.

For a moment, he thought she was going to protest, that she would say he was an idiot. That they both were, and that doing this again was probably the stupidest thing they could do. Which, duh, she wouldn't be wrong.

She swallowed, and replied, "Alright, we'll go with my plan then." He nodded and raised his fist for her to bump.

Her brows furrowed, and he told her, "Come on, the least you can do is not leave me hanging. After all, we might be the first people in history to have a successful friends with benefits relationship. Because there's no way either one of us is developing feelings for the other. Therefore, zero chance of it blowing up, right?"

She hesitated but raised her own fist and tapped it lightly against his. "Right." 

"You sound so enthused," he said.

She shook her head. "I thought the point of a no-strings-attached relationship was that I _didn't_ have to boost your ego."

"Oh, no. Ego boosting is very important here."

She snorted. "Good to know."

"I think this is the start of something beautiful.”

"Yeah, let's hear you say that after we explain it to our friends," she said.

He shrugged. "Fine, maybe beautiful isn't the right word. But, I think it'll definitely make their brains melt, and that'll be fun."

She held it back for a moment, but she relented and let herself laugh.

He knew this was probably going to be messy as hell, but he thought he might really have a good time, despite it all. He hadn’t always liked Clarke. But then again, she hadn’t always liked him, either. So, it was kind of perfect, in an insane and fucked up way. And right now, he really wanted to do something for himself. 

Maybe that was selfish, but he was so freaking tired. Tired of his friends trying to get him to express more emotions. Tired of the awkwardness between him and Emori after she dumped him, saying that he was in love with one of her best friends. Tired of knowing that she had a point, too. Most of all, tired of knowing that even now that he was aware of his feelings for Raven, they would never be anything more than friends. Hell, she was probably gonna marry Shaw. He found that even if he didn’t like the guy, he couldn’t even blame her. Especially after what she went through with Finn. 

So, he thought he might just deserve a bit of fun, to help compensate for the shitty hand he’d been dealt. Even if it did come with a price about as big as a bounty on a famed serial killer. As he and Clarke readied themselves with a story that their friends would buy, he told himself that no matter how bad he thought things would get, it probably wouldn’t be _that bad_ in reality.

* * *

Bellamy stared down the bottle of Jack Daniels Miller had placed on the coffee table in the living room without a word, along with a couple of glasses. It was about as comforting a gesture as Bellamy knew to expect from him. It meant a lot though, that even he was concerned for his friends' well-being after what they witnessed. 

Without looking at any of them, he poured himself two knuckles worth and drained half of it in one sip. He set it down and stared at the amber liquid, trying to will away the image of Clarke in Murphy's lap that he feared was now burned into his brain. He cleared his throat. What the hell was going on? Well, he knew, objectively, that there was an understandable conclusion to be drawn from the situation. It seemed so impossible though, so far-fetched. It couldn’t be the truth. It just couldn’t be. 

Murmuring out something that sounded a lot like, “fucking Murphy,” he drained the rest of the glass and slammed it down, startling Harper in the process.

He flashed her an apologetic glance. “Sorry.”

She gave him a small smile in return, and then rubbed Monty's arm.

He couldn’t look at anyone too long, but he especially couldn’t look at Echo, who he knew was staring at him. He felt her concern from across the room. In a different circumstance, he would’ve appreciated it. Sometimes, she was difficult at comforting, though he knew most of that was due to a difficult childhood. It did surprise him a little, but her effort hardly could have an impact given what he’d just seen.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God,” O breathed out, her eyes lost in space and clutching a pillow to her chest like it was a lifeline. “Did that just really happen? Or are we mass hallucinating again?”

Monty chose this moment to defend his brownies. “It was one bad batch, okay?” He huffed. “Have I ever made you hallucinate before that? Or since then?”

“Murphy...And Clarke,” O continued to speak, as if she didn’t hear Monty. Which Bellamy thought was for the best, even when she continued. “Clarke...And Murphy. Sex. I don’t...I mean.” She looked around at their friends, catching Bellamy’s eye just as he was about to go back to interrogating the coffee table. “Did any of you know?”

No one spoke up. Though he felt their eyes on him, more like boring into him. Because he always had the answers, right? Well, he certainly didn't have an answer for this. And if anyone was going to know, he guessed it would make sense that it’d be him. That Clarke would confide in him. But whatever she and Murphy were doing, she’d chosen not to. The thought made him queasy. 

After a moment, he spat out, “I didn’t know they were together, alright, so stop looking at me like I did.” 

He didn’t mean to snap, really, it’s just that this was his fucking ‘get-together with the friends and celebrate getting engaged’ party. Now it had turned into ‘Clarke and Murphy might be in love’ discovery. What was he meant to do with that? A million questions went through his head. He knew, even if he spent hours interrogating the two of them, he’d never really understand. Or get the answers that he needed to even attempt to. 

He could only hope they had some rational, unexpected explanation for what happened between them. Bellamy knew better than to hold out for that kind of hope though. Years ago, back before he was even friends with Clarke. Back when she didn’t like him at all, really. He used to think he was cursed or something. Now, he thought that the curse might’ve returned. In the form of two of his closest friends sleeping together. 

Luckily, he didn’t have to dwell on that awful thought for too long. 

“We don’t even know if this...A thing,” Harper said, ever the voice of reason, of remaining calm. “Maybe this is the first time.”

He didn’t know which would be worse. Honestly, any of the choices made him want to throw up. Either Murphy and Clarke were something, or they were just starting to be something. He was really hoping for the mass hallucination.

"It looked like a thing though, didn't it?" Jackson asked. 

Bellamy hated him for it for a second, but he sensed that the other did in fact have a point. But then his thoughts were soothed again.

Miller twisted his lips into a grimace. "Maybe. But it's not like the two of them are the most well—adjusted people on the planet. Harper might be right."

He knew they were all practically taking turns staring at him, which fair, okay, he knew they all thought he was a goner when it came to Clarke, but did they really have to be so obvious in front of Echo? Besides, as much as they all protested it, he didn’t have feelings for Clarke in that way. Well. Not anymore, at least. There had been a second, years ago when he _almost_ considered differently. But that was so long ago. He’d definitely let go of those notions, knowing that they’d never amount to anything, anyway.

Though he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised by his friends’ concern. What he didn’t expect was Raven’s rage. He could almost see it coming off her in waves. The set of her jaw, the flashes between anger and something else in her eyes.

“I mean, what the fuck?” Raven said. She stood up from where she had been slouching in one of the chairs Clarke’s mother had delivered when they were still talking to her. “Seriously? Is no one else pissed as hell about this bullshit as I am?” she asked. 

No one replied. They all expected him to be pissed about this because it was pretty much assumed by everyone that the two of them told each other everything. They weren’t expecting it from her. When no one seemed willing to give her the answer she wanted, she took a breath and seemed to calm down a bit. 

“Whatever. It’s not like I give a shit which one of you is making this group more incestuous than it already is,” she said and flopped back into the chair. But he could tell that she was still stewing. Shaw glanced over at her, and opened his mouth to comment, but she snipped at him, "not now."

In a moment of weakness, he let himself look at Echo. Her head was tilted to the side, and her eyes were sympathetic. She thought he was upset because the party had been ruined or that the group dynamic was now at stake. Which he supposed was a major part of it. They were the closest thing he had to family, besides O, really. And things were only just starting to get back to normal between the siblings after almost a year of them barely even speaking. He shrugged and went back to staring down the table.

Of course, he was concerned about how this would affect all of them. 

They’d all met in college. Him and Miller grad students, Jackson in med school, and the rest in various years of undergrad. Hell, he’d met Clarke when she was _eighteen,_ moving into the same dorm as O. Even when he thought he might have feelings for her, around the time when she graduated college, he knew it’d never work. So, he moved on and was content with being friends with her. 

And Echo was fun and sexy and laughed at his lame jokes. If he was being honest, she was also about as far from Clarke as he could get. There had been one or two instances, on Halloween years ago, right after Gina broke up with him, or Clarke’s twenty-third birthday, four years ago now, when he thought...But that didn’t matter now, he told himself. Echo was great for him, and he hoped that he was pretty good for her too.

He felt the temperature in the room actually shift when Clarke and Murphy walked in. They weren’t holding hands, which he, guiltily, felt amazing about. He didn’t know why that one act lifted his spirits so much, but it did. Maybe because he figured if they were actually a couple, and they were telling their friends, they would be holding hands.

“What’s up, motherfuckers?” Murphy asked, spreading his arms wide.

Clarke glared at him and rolled her eyes, which filled Bellamy with glee. Maybe it had been a one-time thing. A spur of the moment mistake that they were going to explain why and how it happened and then proceed to never mention again. Then they could all move on and pretend this nightmare situation had never even happened. That had to be it because any other alternative just didn't make sense.

But any hope of that was dashed when Murphy draped an arm over Clarke’s shoulders. 

She looked over at him, and he knew it was petty, okay, but he pointedly kept glaring at Murphy. It was difficult to glare at him without meeting her pleading eyes, but he managed. Eventually, she gave up and decided to speak.

“So, obviously, you all saw Murphy and I, um, you know.” She swallowed and blushed a bit.

“Oh, did we ever,” Jasper said, grinning. O lobbed the pillow she'd been holding at his head, which made him yelp in surprise. Lincoln placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Well,” Clarke sighed. “We just want to explain what that was.”

“Yeah, that would be great,” Raven narrowed her eyes at the two of them. “Thanks.” Though it sounded a lot more like an insult than a ‘thank you’.

Clarke looked fleetingly at Murphy. Bellamy didn’t like her looking at him like he was gonna protect her or something. It felt off. The balance of the world was thrown into wack with just a simple look. Obviously, they’d talked. But he wondered just how much talking they’d done recently.

Murphy let his arm drop from Clarke’s shoulders, and, fuck, stepped in front of her.

“Here’s the deal assholes. Me and Clarke?” He looked back at her, as if to get permission for what he was about to say, and she gave him a little nod. “We’re screwing. No, we are not dating, nor do we currently have any plans to. This is not romance or whatever the hell you wanna call it. What we have…” He shrugged and grinned. “Can’t be defined.”

Clarke snorted at that, which, under absolutely any other circumstances, Bellamy would’ve smiled at. He probably made a joke at how dramatic Murphy was being. It wouldn’t be the first time he did something like this. They were kind of accustomed to it. Bellamy just never imagined Murphy’s dramatics would go hand-in-hand with explaining how he and Clarke were friends with benefits. 

Murphy wasn’t done though, but Bellamy wished he had been. Not because he was even close to understanding the situation, but rather, he didn’t know how many more details he could stomach.

“We did not invite you to come barging into Clarke’s room and witness the amazingness that is our sex life, but, because you all have zero knowledge of the definition of a closed door, you have, and Clarke tells me we have to tell you and ask you to please be cool with it or she’ll stop sucking my dick.” 

At that, Clarke shoved him, hard, but he just smirked, the same one he’d had on his face back in Clarke’s bedroom. Which brought up a hot flare of anger he didn’t expect. It made Bellamy want to punch a wall. He managed to cool it, but only just. 

She didn’t correct Murphy, didn’t stop him from telling them all of this information that Bellamy wasn’t sure he’d ever forget. Which confirmed that this was, indeed, happening. That Clarke Griffin and John Murphy were having sex. That one Clarke Griffin had given one John Murphy a blow job. It was wrong, on so many levels, but that was really the part that was fucking with his head. He felt a little light-headed and wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through the rest of this conversation in one piece.

Before any of the others, including himself, could say a word, O nodded and seemed to decide something. 

She shrugged, and said, “Makes sense. Murphy’s been checking out your tits for a month, Clarke.”

Clarke looked visibly relieved at that, if only slightly. Bellamy never guessed she’d looked relieved at O saying Murphy had been checking her out. As the moment dragged on, Bellamy tried his best to find the right words. The right thing to say at the moment, to quell Clarke’s worries. To make everyone feel at ease. That seemed to be his job, most of the time. Not that he stepped away from it or even discouraged it. To the contrary. Usually, he thought he did a pretty good job of it. Not this time though. This time, he just...Couldn’t. The world didn’t make sense anymore, as dramatic as that sounded, even to him.

“It’s alright Clarke, we’ll only make fun of you for sleeping with Murphy like three times a day,” Monty said, grinning a little. 

Murphy scowled at that, but Clarke gave him a pointed look and he let up. Something boiled in Bellamy’s stomach at that. Not about the exact exchange itself, but the softness there. The ease of it. Like they already had their own Thing. 

He wondered for the first time if they were being completely honest with the group. Or maybe it was even themselves they were lying to. Maybe, even though they’d just told them they weren’t like that, they were. He wasn’t sure which scenario he dreaded more. 

Clarke’s eyes found his own when he wasn’t paying attention to the fact that he had been avoiding looking at her the whole time. He realized it didn’t matter what O said or Monty or anyone in that room. It wasn’t gonna be okay for her until he said it was. The thought filled him with, not happiness, but something attuned to a sick kind of pleasure. It didn’t last long, of course. But at least he knew, even if Murphy was moving up in her life, that Bellamy still mattered, too. 

He told himself that this was his biggest concern, that her dynamic with Murphy, no matter how they described it, would drive the two of them apart. This made sense to him. There had been times when they hadn’t been friends. When they first met. When she unexpectedly took off to Paris for a year for study abroad. For a short moment, when he and O first fought. He didn’t want to risk losing her again, and whatever this was with Murphy, it was definitely a risk. 

Bellamy opened his mouth and then closed it. Finally, he managed to find the words. Maybe not the right words, exactly. Maybe not the words he wanted to say, even. But they were words, so it was a win.

“I guess you guys will do whatever the hell you want regardless of what any of us say, so, it’s cool.”

Clarke nodded and gave him a small smile. He could tell it wasn’t everything she needed to hear, but it was enough. For now. And it was as much as he could muster in the current moment.

“As much as Murphy’s little speech may have you thinking otherwise, this really isn’t going to change anything between the group.” Bellamy could hardly believe _that_ to be the truth. “I mean, that’s the last thing we’d want.” She looked at everyone as she spoke. “Honestly, it’s kind of a relief, to tell you all.”

Murphy scratched the back of his head, and added, “Though it was kind of hot sneaking around.”

Clarke scoffed. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to put in more effort to compensate.”

“We all now know how much effort you put in Clarke,” Jasper said, waggling his eyebrows.

Miller knocked him upside the head, and muttered something that sounded awful like, “fucking kids these days”.

“Echo,” Clarke said, turning to the other woman. “And Bellamy,” was it just his imagination, or did her voice catch a little when she said his name? “We hate that we might’ve ruined your party and we’re really, really sorry.” Definitely his imagination. 

Echo smirked. “Relax, Clarke. Now, if this had been the actual wedding, I would’ve had to kill you, but, I know how you all are by now? And eh, what’s this group without a dash of dramatics?”

Clarke laughed, her eyebrows lifting ever so slightly—like she didn’t even realize she was doing it.

After the new world order had been described to them, and Clarke and Murphy explained as much as anyone in the group wanted them to, it was decided that the house was too “tainted” (Raven’s word, not his) by the previous events. So, they would continue to celebrate, what at this point he didn’t know, by going to the neighborhood pool. 

The one they hardly ever went to because it was always packed with teenagers, screaming kids, and their tottering parents. But this time it didn’t seem so crowded. They were all pushing each other in and dunking each other underwater. Jasper inexplicably still had his goggles on his forehead.

Clarke and Raven were on lounge chairs having a conversation he knew better than to interrupt. Of course, that didn’t mean everyone got that. Murphy was dripping wet from the pool and shook out his hair right over Raven, who let out a string of curses that made O blush. She started to get up, presumably to make him regret ever being born, but he had picked up Clarke and slung her over his shoulder, making a dash for the pool.

She was laughing. Her real laugh. Which wasn’t all that pretty, even. She kind of snorted sometimes when she really got going, but the sun was reflecting off of her hair and her eyes were shining and she squealed, “Murphy, NO!” But she wasn’t really protesting it.

Murphy jumped in.

When they didn't come up, Jasper said, “I wonder if we’ll ever see them again,” to no one in particular.

“Ah, young lust,” Monty commented.

Eventually, they did come up, and when they did, she dunked his head underwater, and then scrambled onto his shoulders.

“Alright, who wants to challenge the cockroaches to a game of Chicken?” she asked. Like everything was how it was the day before.

Harper and Monty immediately got on that, and it occurred to Bellamy that to anyone else at the pool Clarke and Murphy might've looked like a real couple. The thought made his brow furrow, and his chest got all tight. It didn’t go unnoticed by Raven, who caught his eyes and rolled her own from her chair.

He felt someone nudge his shoulder and looked over at Echo, who smiled gently. “You sure you’re okay? I mean, I get it. She’s your best friend. And, as much as you don’t admit it, he’s your friend too. It could get messy.”

“It’ll be fine,” he said.

He slung an arm around Echo and brought her close, just as Harper toppled over and Clarke whooped in triumph.

“Bellamy, please tell me you weren’t too busy making googly eyes to witness my incredible skills?”

“Nah, I saw, Princess,” he replied, and her whole face lit up.

But he didn’t have time to think about that because Octavia was already on Lincoln’s shoulders and she shouted, “Bell, if you cheer when I lose I’m disinviting myself from the wedding.” Because no one beat Clarke Griffin at Chicken.

Echo laughed and leaned into him. It felt nice, as things always seemed to be between the two of them. As if nothing had really changed since that morning when he’d proposed. 

He told himself that his anxiety about Clarke and Murphy was about things changing. After all, he wasn’t big on it. Not once he settled into a routine. Clarke’s words came back to him though, about how he was embarking on this huge change now. He guessed he couldn’t blame her for wanting to have some fun before she met someone she really wanted to be with. Seriously, did it have to be Murphy though? He thought about it too long and eventually took the effort to clear his head of the thoughts. They wouldn’t do him any good. He focused on cheering on Clarke as she battled his sister instead.

But when Octavia did fall into the water, Murphy adjusted his grip so his hands were higher up on Clarke's thighs. She looked over and grinned at him again. After that, well, he couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling that he was, if only a little bit, fucked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading ❤︎
> 
> find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)


	3. But Baby, Don't You Go Over Analyze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we are at the third chapter!! this one mostly deals with Bellamy and Raven's reactions to Clarke and Murphy's new arrangement. jealousy whomst?
> 
> *chapter title is from 'Cold Cold Man' by Saint Motel
> 
> *slight tw for mention of depression*

In the weeks following the engagement party, Raven figured things would be different after finding out about Murphy and Clarke. Despite Clarke’s nearly desperate reassurances that nothing was going to change, she knew that was most likely going to amount to the opposite. As soon as friends started sleeping together, usually, everything changed.

Before even getting into the Bellamy of it all, there was the fact that Emori and Murphy hadn’t been broken up for long. Add that to the, perhaps harsh but true, sentiment that Clarke and Murphy didn’t have the best track record with these kinds of things, and you got a whole lot of possible drama. 

Then there _was_ the Bellamy of it all. Not only did the face Bellamy made whenever the two were so much in spitting distance of one another make her worry. But also because their friends were so goddamn obvious about worrying about him.

It was sweet, really. That Harper cared so much to make her special chicken noodle soup from scratch. And Monty insisted on playing an hour of video games, just the two of them. Miller stopped by too and, hell, even offered to watch a history documentary with him. 

Raven knew all of this through Bellamy, who was getting sick of everyone acting like he was going to fracture into a million pieces. She thought this was pretty fair of him, but held back that, in part, she had produced a newly redesigned vintage radio for that very reason.

Echo wasn’t stupid. She was going to figure out why everyone, as freaked out as they were by the latest development between the resident cockroaches of the group, had decided to put all those feelings aside in favor of being there for their friend. It didn’t help that Bellamy absolutely refused to even entertain the idea of otherwise platonic feelings for Clarke. Even as his discomfort with the situation became more and more apparent. 

Whatever. At least Raven had passed her concern off as an engagement gift.

“Hell, I don’t know how to tell them to just quit it already without sounding like a massive dick,” he said, swigging back his beer. “I don’t understand why they think _I’m_ the one they should be worrying about.”

They were all at Grounders, a hole-in-the-wall that was close to almost all of their places. It tolerated Clarke’s yelling whenever she won a game of darts (which was always), Jasper’s habit of getting belligerent off of only three and a half beers, and had enough of a mix between the cheap stuff to not break Octavia’s bank, but a fair amount of the craft selection that Miller drank exclusively. Despite the many other things about it that made it less than desirable, it was perfect.

She played with the label on her own bottle. “I don’t know that you can, but it’ll smooth out eventually. I mean, I know we all figured this was the end,” she held up a hand to silence his protest, “but they haven’t so much as kissed each other on the cheek in front of us yet. Once everyone sees that it’s no big deal, they’ll cool it.”

She was telling herself that as much as she was him, but that was something she struggled to even admit to herself, let alone anyone else. It had only been a short time since The Event, but it had shifted everyone’s perspective. That’s what Raven was calling it in her head. No, she didn’t need to be told how stupid it sounded. But she did need to give it some kind of monstrous name to organize the mess of feelings she had about the situation.

It shouldn’t have bothered her. In fact, she prided herself on being resolutely unbothered by the stupid shit her friends got themselves into. The Raven that she thought she was would’ve teased Clarke along with everyone else, glared at Murphy, but not with actual mal, and tried to be there for Bellamy with much more subtlety than any of her other friends could ever attempt. Instead, she could barely do any of those things. Because every time she thought about it she felt like punching a wall. 

But _why_ was she so damn pissed off? It didn’t make any sense. The feeling didn’t go away though, even when she willed it to. At Clarke. At Murphy. Hell, if he didn’t look so pathetic when she snapped at him, she would’ve been pissed at Bellamy, too. For what? She had asked herself that more than once over the course of the last couple of weeks. To no avail. The answer wouldn’t come. 

It was being noted by her friends too. Her temper was shorter than ever, and she started bailing on most group hangouts in favor of doing something with Shaw. He liked it though since, while she knew her boyfriend would never admit it, he still hadn’t warmed to her friends. When she did actually show, she almost always left early. She needed to get over it. The last thing she wanted was for the rest of them to think she had a thing for Clarke or Murphy. That she, as well as Bellamy, needed to be coddled.

Not really paying attention to what she was doing, she ripped the whole label off the beer bottle and crumpled up the paper. Because he was him, Bellamy took special notice of this. Like he was cracking some kind of code.

“How’re you feeling about the whole thing?” he asked.

“It’s not my sex life,” she replied, a little stiff. “Not really any of my business.”

“I know,” he said, treading carefully. “It’s just that you and Murphy have become closer these past couple of years. I don’t know. It’s okay if you're pissed he didn’t tell you.”

It _was_ true. The two of them had been hanging out more and more than she ever thought they would. Especially after the car accident that resulted in Raven’s injured leg. And yeah, it was Murphy’s fault, alright, but she’d forgiven him for that. Mostly. But he was a damn good chef and they’d become obsessed over _Sons of Anarchy_ together. It happened sort of by accident. But then they made a weekly thing out of it so they could drag out the seasons on Netflix as long as possible. Once they finished that, they started in on _Peaky Blinders_. That didn’t mean they were besties though, she reminded herself. And it didn’t mean he was obligated to tell her if he was getting some.

“You pissed she didn’t tell you?” she asked, avoiding his question.

He raised his brows, like the disappointed dad he was, and sighed. “I don’t know. I used to think me and Clarke told each other everything.”

She snorted, which made him furrow his brow. “Except one thing,” she said, giving him a knowing look.

He frowned. “I don’t know what that means,” he said, shifting so he was leaning back in the booth. She could tell that even if he didn’t want them to, his eyes drifted to Clarke, who was currently playing a very loud game of pool against Miller.

“Fine, I’ll let it go. But then you don’t ask me if I’m pissed at Murphy,” she replied.

He looked back over at her and smirked. “But you _are_ pissed at Murphy.”

Raven shrugged. “It’ll blow over.”

“The being pissed at them part? Or they’re sleeping together part?” And he really wanted to know, she could tell.

“Both,” she decided and folded her hands on the table. “Look, casual sex is fun and all, but sooner or later they’ll get bored or find other people they want to date or realize that it isn’t worth screwing with their friendship. They’ll stop. And then you and I won’t even have a reason to be pissed.” Her voice sounded so sure, but she didn’t buy it. Not completely.

He visibly relaxed at her words though, so they must’ve resonated with him in a way they didn’t with her.

“You’re right,” he said.

“Aren’t I always?” she asked, grinning. “Come on, Clarke’s on a winning streak and I fear the deadly consequences if someone doesn’t knock her down a peg before the next round.”

He shook his head at first, but she managed to get him to play a game against Clarke and Monty. And yeah, it felt good when they kicked her ass.

Raven gloated over her victory, much to the shared eye rolls of Clarke and Monty, but she and Bellamy did a little dance to cement their win and it felt awesome.

“Someone’s having a good time,” Shaw said as he came up to her. 

“Hey!” she greeted, perhaps a bit drunk. “I didn’t know you were coming. Thought you had to work late on that new fancy project.”

“It’s no sweat, I can work on it tomorrow.” He brushed a stray bit of hair off her face. “I’m gonna grab a beer.” He pointed a finger at her. “And get you some water.”

“I’m amazing at pool, that’s all. I’m not drunk,” she protested.

He grinned. “Of course, not.” But he turned and went off to get the drinks anyway.

“Disgusting,” Murphy commented from where he’d been talking to Jasper about the latest restaurant gossip. Jasper ate it up, and Murphy was only too happy to spill it. 

“There was a time when you were disgusting, too, my good friend,” she shot back. 

She was proud of herself that she didn’t sound as harsh as she had the last couple of times they’d talked. 

He gave her a very unimpressed look. “Yeah, and I’m never going back to _that_ again. Sweet freedom.” Then he shot Emori a sheepish look. “No offense.”

Emori shook her head. “None taken. I’m right there with you.” She clinked her glass against his. 

It felt nice, that the two of them were pushing past the awkwardness. Frankly, it surprised Raven, how easily they both were moving on and towards friendship. She used to think, back after her Finn days, that it didn’t happen until you met someone else. How wrong she’d been back then, about almost everything. 

“Yeah, right,” Raven couldn’t help but delve into it a little with Murphy. It was too easy. “I give it a year before you’re back to being a lovey-dovey hopeless romantic.”

“A year to live,” he replied and raised his glass then looked over at Clarke. “You down to make it a memorable one?”

Clarke raised her brows, and for a second, Raven thought she might tell him to fuck off. Like before. She gave him this look though, all heat. “I suppose if there’s nothing better on TV, why not?” She shrugged, playing it off like it was nothing.

Their friends made a series of groans. Harper gagged. Miller threw a beer bottle cap at Clarke, though he missed on purpose. 

The comment, while insignificant, annoyed her. But why did it? Nothing made sense anymore. Not Clarke and Bellamy. Not Clarke and Murphy. Not Raven and Clarke. And definitely, not Murphy and Raven. 

“See?” Murphy asked and smirked, distracting Raven from the disturbing place her thoughts were headed. “If I’m gonna go out, at least it’ll be with a bang.”

Raven couldn’t help it, she laughed. “That’s the best you got? A bang?” She sighed. “I expected better from you, Murphy.”

“Oh, you did?” He looked far too delighted. 

She crossed her arms over her chest and stuck out her hip. “Not like that, pig.” 

“Then in what way did you mean it?”

Raven went to argue but was interrupted by Shaw. 

“Here you go,” he said, a little less kindly than his previous tone had been. Raven didn’t understand the shift, but she didn’t think about it too much as she accepted her water and took a long sip. Work had been hell for him recently. It was probably just stress. 

Shaw cut a look at Murphy that Raven nearly didn’t catch, and then looped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Normally, she didn’t care for PDA. It felt too performative and gushy. But she _was_ indeed a little drunk and knew Shaw liked the affection. 

Raven reminded herself that she really liked Shaw. It was a good feeling, after Finn and then Wick and, briefly, Luna. She deserved someone like him. Caring and thoughtful and just _good._ They’d technically been dating for almost a year, but they were taking things slow. He understood she needed time, after everything she’d been through in her life. Murphy could screw whoever she wanted, she had a perfect boyfriend, she thought to herself.

And then she was horrified once it settled it. Again, she asked herself why she cared so much. It was _Murphy_ —clearly, he was gonna do whatever and whoever he wanted, as always. And she wasn’t meant to care. No, she didn’t care. Not at all. It didn’t matter, not to her, at least.

Feeling strange and suddenly too hot in the bar, she turned to her friends. “We’re gonna head out. See you around.” She handed her beer off to Octavia, who insisted on everyone finishing their drinks on principle. Even if she had to do it herself. Then Raven gave them all a pathetic wave and walked out hand-in-hand with Shaw. 

As they walked back to her place, he paused for a moment before he asked her, “What’s up with you recently?”

“Nothing,” she dismissed. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Just a couple of weeks ago, you were always begging me to hang out with your friends. To spend more time with them than I do my own.”

“You mean like McCreary?” she teased, “Please, I’m trying to _save_ you from them.”

He licked his lips. “Not my point.” His tone was serious and she felt herself sobering up a bit, dreading a fight. They hardly ever fought. It was one of her favorite parts of the relationship. Its easiness. 

“Then what is?” she questioned, already overthinking the whole thing. 

Shaw blew out a breath. “I don’t mean to be a dick. I just want to know what changed. And why it did.”

“Nothing’s changed. I mean, yes, is it weird that Clarke and Murphy are sleeping together? Of course. But—”

“So that’s the reason?” he jumped in. “Clarke and Murphy?”

She blinked at him. “What? No. I mean...No. It’s strange, yeah, but it’s not the reason I’m not spending as much time with them.”

He didn’t let it go, though. Picking up on something she denied even existed. “If you have a problem with them sleeping together, it might help to talk about it. About why.”

She swallowed. “But I don’t.” she added, “Have a problem with it, I mean.”

Shaw sighed like she’d given him the wrong answer on a pop quiz, and honestly, it annoyed her. 

“I don’t understand why you’re starting this over _nothing_ and why you’re acting like I’m lying to you,” she said, pausing as they reached her building. 

“It’s not nothing,” Shaw argued.

Now, that was a surprise. Raven couldn’t imagine what he meant by that. 

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, Raven.” He sighed again. God. She realized she hated it when he sighed like that. 

She frowned. “What? Just tell me so we can deal with it.”

“You were flirting with Murphy tonight,” he let out.

That was not what she expected. At all. The idea was so ludicrous, in fact, that she couldn’t stop herself. She threw back her head and laughed. 

“I’m sorry…” she got out. He didn’t look that enthused, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Me?” She pointed to herself. “Flirt…” She laughed again. “With Murphy? Have you lost it?” She swept the hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ears. “Shaw, no, okay? Never in a million years, okay?”

“Raven—” he started.

“Wait,” she said. “Let me explain, alright? Murphy and I...It’s a weird relationship, yeah, but it took years for us to even be in the same room together. I barely stand him. The only thing we have in common is amazing taste in TV and movies.” She smiled at him. “Besides, I like _you_ , remember? You’re the one I trust. And you’re the one I want to be with.”

For a second, she thought he might protest. But then he brought a hand to her waist and kissed her softly. “Okay.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a dick, I guess...I don’t know. You’re awesome.”

“I know I am,” she replied and he rolled his eyes, but laughed all the same. She linked their hands together. “Now come on, I definitely am not thinking about Murphy right now.”

He returned the glint in her eye. They went upstairs and had sex, and she felt at ease once more. Raven felt that everything, despite the shifting relationships within the group, was going to be just fine.

* * *

The thing about sex with Murphy was that there were no expectations. It reminded Clarke of the short amount of time she’d spent hooking up with Niylah in college during her year abroad, and Anya in high school. This time around though, it was even better. She barely even had to think about it. He would text her, or she would text him, and they’d meet up, and it happened.

Everyone had bought the story they’d sold too, which was that she and Murphy had started hooking up about a month before Echo and Bellamy got engaged. They’d decided to keep it quiet because their friends were all nosy assholes. But then everyone had ‘found out’ right after they decided it was probably time to tell them. 

She didn’t want anyone to know that the first time had been because Bellamy was getting married. Likewise, Murphy didn’t want anyone to suspect he’d spent the time after his break-up with Emori moping over Raven. They might’ve been able to tell one another the truth, but they couldn’t trust letting anyone else know. It would’ve ruined their relationships. And she knew that they did both want to keep their friendships intact, and hopefully move on at the same time. 

The only downside really, was that things were now definitely awkward between her and Bellamy. She knew they would be, had accepted that as a price to pay for maybe (hopefully) finding a way to get him out of her system, but she hadn’t realized just how much it would impact their relationship.

Some changes could’ve been okay, even good. Clarke understood that if she was going to get over him, then things had to change. But when they actually happened, she hated them. By starting something with Murphy, she had shifted their dynamic. And even if she wanted to go back to how things were, she knew she couldn’t. Living with that heartbreak when there would never be a pay off was too much. Plus, she really did have fun with Murphy. 

About three weeks after the ‘truth’ came out, Bellamy texted and told her to try and eat a vegetable or two for dinner, but that she was on her own. He and Echo were still at her parents’ place for lunch. It had turned into ‘discussing the wedding’. Normally, Clarke would’ve gotten into her sweats and put on a reality television show Bellamy didn’t approve of. But she realized that she didn’t have to do that. She could do Murphy instead.

He replied about five minutes after she sent a tentative, carefully worded text.

_imessage_

**Murphy:** you need to work on your game, but sure. come on over ;)

She rolled her eyes. Just because they were sleeping together didn’t mean that they were getting along any better. After all, he was still Murphy. 

Despite that, she did put on a lacy bra (but stayed in her button-down and jeans she’d worn to work—it wasn’t like she had to impress him, after all). She went over, got laid, and figured she might even beat Bellamy home, which was good. 

It would leave her enough time to change out of Murphy's shirt and into one of her own. He'd ripped half the buttons on hers, getting impatient as usual, which she bitched about because "those shits are expensive, you ass.” When she'd finished getting her jeans on though, he'd tossed her an AC/DC tour shirt. 

"I want that back, by the way," he'd said. “It’s vintage.”

She’d scoffed. "Don't worry. _Highway to Hell_ is your anthem, not mine.”

Unfortunately, she didn’t beat Bellamy back to the house.

When she walked through the door, he was watching some corny romantic comedy on Netflix they’d already seen together.

He didn’t look up when she walked in. Something was up, and he wasn’t telling her. It sparked a little flare of annoyance. She thought they could tell each other anything. Out of pride, she decided not to give him any kind of reaction.

“How were Echo’s parents?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light. “They already make you sign away your soul as part of the prenup?”

Echo might’ve been pretty relaxed about not talking about it, but everyone knew she came from money. Her parents ran Azgeda Enterprises, one of the biggest corporations in the city. 

His jaw ticked, and her stomach sank. He _was_ upset about something. Clarke wished she understood what it was, or that he’d at least talk to her about it. Finally, he glanced over at her, his eyes scanning hers, then dropping to her choice in attire. He sighed and lowered the volume on the TV.

“Did something happen?” she asked. “Were they total assholes? Do I need to fight them?”

His lips quirked up a bit and she felt relieved. “No need to defend my honor, Clarke.” He cleared his throat. “There wasn’t any soul signing yet. But I have to produce ten cows and an acre of land in the next couple of weeks.” Though his tone didn’t match it, she could tell it was meant to be a joke. 

She laughed, though it wasn’t that funny. Then she became very interested in her shoes. When she looked up, he was staring her down. She worried her bottom lip, before letting out a huff.

“Sorry I broke curfew,” she said, trying to ease the tension between them.

He smiled a little, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s alright. I’ll only make you do the dishes for the next two weeks instead of the three I had planned.”

“Thanks,” she snarked back, but it was still awkward between them, the chemistry not quite right. 

She knew something was off, and if he wouldn’t acknowledge it, then she would. 

“Did I do something?” Clarke asked. “I mean, I know me and Murphy are a lot to take in, but...Is there something else going on?” She forced out, “If it’s something with Echo or Octavia, you know you can talk to me, right?” 

He opened his mouth like he was going to explain. But he didn’t. 

“It’s not any of that,” he replied. 

Then, it clicked. She berated herself for being so stupid to not have seen it. Clarke took a seat beside him on the couch. She reached out and brushed her thumb over one of his hands. Not to put pressure on him, just to make sure he knew she meant it when she said, “If you’re feeling depressed you know you can tell me about it. It’s okay if you don’t want to. But if you need someone, I’m here for you.”

He softened under her gaze and took a breath. “I appreciate that, more than I can ever say. But I’m alright.”

When she still didn’t look convinced, he followed that with, “I would tell you if I was. This isn’t it.”

She nodded and did her best to keep the question at bay. But it only worked for a minute. “Then what’s wrong?”

He hesitated. 

“As long as it’s not me and Murphy,” she said and laughed at the absurdity of it. 

But then Bellamy nearly winced. Clarke had never felt like more of a dumbass. 

“Is it me and Murphy?” she asked, stunned. 

_Is he jealous?_ Some secret, horrible part of her didn’t just think it, it wanted it to be true. But it wasn’t going to be, and she needed to kill it before it even took root. He loved Echo, and Clarke knew he loved her, too. Not like she loved him though. Not now and not ever. She swallowed, trying to push the idea down with it. 

This, she knew, was why Murphy was becoming so important to her. After this conversation was over, she could text him. Maybe he’d call her pathetic and a dork, and “what did she expect?” But he would be there for her. And if needed, she would be for him, too. 

“I guess,” he admitted. Her brows went up and he continued, “I’m worried about what it could do to...The group.”

Now, that seemed a little ridiculous. But it was like him, to be concerned about that kind of thing. She should’ve realized it sooner. At least this helped squash the idea that he held some secret feelings for her. 

“The group," she repeated. “I...Do you really think we could ruin it that badly?”

At the concern she was sure was written across her face, he backpedaled. “I don’t think you’ll be the one to ruin it. You’re not…” He swallowed and huffed out, “You’re not the one I’m worried about.”

She licked her lips. “Murphy?” 

“Yeah.” He sighed. “It’s not that I don’t trust him, you know I do. But we both know he’s a bit of a loose cannon.”

She smiled and tilted her head to the side. “A bit?”

Clarke felt so much lighter when Bellamy smiled a little too and agreed with her, “Okay, yeah, more like a lot.”

“Like the kind they have at those re-enactments you’re always criticizing.”

She grinned when he gestured with his hand, “The costumes are completely off, Clarke. And the artillery? Don’t even get me started. Then there’s the actual positioning of the cannons and the line up of soldiers and—” he broke off when he realized she was laughing. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to control herself. “Please, go on. It’s fascinating stuff.”

“You’re an asshole,” he deadpanned. “I try to talk about something I’m really upset by, and you laugh at me.”

This only inspired a new bout of laughing. This time, he joined in. 

“You’re a horrible friend,” he told her.

She shoved his shoulder. “At least I listen! You can’t say that about anyone else.”

He considered this. “Fine,” he allowed. “You are a sub-par friend. But that’s the best you’re going to get.”

Taking a breath, she accepted it. “Very well. I guess I’ll take it.”

The moment turned a bit more serious than she expected it to, and Clarke remembered they hadn’t finished talking about why he was upset. 

“So…” she started. “Me and Murphy?”

He worked his jaw. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget it, okay? It’s nothing.” He stood up from the couch and went into the kitchen. 

Not giving up that easily, she followed, saying, “I know it’s weird.” 

He opened the fridge and shook his head. “Clarke—”

“I get it,” she interrupted before he could say what she already knew. “We’re threatening a good thing by doing this, and you’re worried that Murphy will do something to hurt me or we’ll mess with everyone else. But it’s not like that.”

Bellamy pulled out a beer and opened it. “It’s not?” he asked.

“Get me one of those,” she nodded to the beer, “and I’ll explain.”

He did as she asked and they took seats at the chairs near the bar/breakfast nook. Bellamy refused to call it a breakfast nook on principle, but really, it’s what it was. 

Clarke let out a breath. “Nothing’s happening between me and Murphy.”

Bellamy raised his brows and took a sip of his beer. 

“Okay,” she allowed. “So, obviously, _that’s_ happening. But nothing else. Trust me.”

“I do,” he said. “Him...I don’t know.”

“Bellamy,” she grinned. “Murphy is not going to fall in love with me.”

“But he could still fuck it up somehow,” he argued. 

She shook her head. “It’s not like that between us. And though I can’t predict everything that’s gonna happen, I do know that I can trust him.”

Bellamy swallowed. “What if he hurts you? What I am supposed to do then?”

The idea was so out of nowhere, so not anywhere near her thought process, she snorted. “Please. If there’s one thing I can guarantee, is that no one is going to get hurt from this.”

He wasn’t convinced. “Someone could, though.” Playing with the metal top on his beer he added, “Get hurt, I mean.”

She laughed, she couldn’t stop herself. Bellamy looked alarmed for a moment, so she stopped and placed a hand on his arm. “Me and Murphy? Hurt each other? Over sex?” She pretended to feel his temperature. “Are you getting sick?”

“Haha,” he said, dry. “I guess I meant...I don’t know.”

She nodded. “I do.” He frowned and she smiled softly. “You don’t want your family to get fucked up again. I get it. You’ve been through so much, and the last thing I want to do is add to it. But Murphy and I are fine, okay?” 

She shrugged and went on, “And if things get weird, then I’ll end it. You have nothing to worry about.” She poked the crease between his brows that was still there. “So, stop worrying, or you’ll be all wrinkly on your wedding day.”

He huffed. “I will not.”

“You will,” she said. “People will be like ‘oooh who is that hot best woman and why is she best friends with someone who’s a million years older than her?’” 

He rolled his eyes. “I hate you.”

She hopped down from her chair. “You _so_ don’t,” she said, all smug. 

Because even if Bellamy would never feel about her as she did about him, she was sure of that much. And she figured if she couldn’t have Bellamy in that way, then having him as her best friend was a damn good deal.

* * *

When the end of the world arrived, it was because of Harper. Okay, Bellamy knew that sounded more dramatic than it was. At the moment though, he was sure the moon was going to explode as a result. 

Bellamy understood she only meant to put Clarke at ease.

Nearly four weeks had passed since they'd found Clarke and Murphy together. They were at their booth in Grounders, minus Jackson and Miller, who were visiting Miller's dad, and Shaw, who had an early morning. Lincoln and Raven were trying to teach O how to not take out someone's eye at darts, and Jasper was failing to hit on the new bartender with sleeve tattoos. Emori and Echo were standing nearby, encouraging him to keep trying. They were waiting on Murphy, as usual. Clarke brought over her and Bellamy's order as she slid in next to him.

Harper stared at her for a moment, chewing on her lip, before she asked, "Clarke, why do you and Murphy, never, you know, touch in front of us?"

He swallowed and turned to face her. Was it wrong that he hadn't even thought about it? Other than to be relieved of course, that they hadn't. Still, he didn’t consider that it was odd or that any of their friends would've thought it was either. It freaked him out enough to consider that they were sleeping together. Let alone have to witness the reality of it. 

"Uh, I don't know. Why do you ask?" Her back straightened, and he could feel it as her leg started giggling under the table.

"It's just that," Harper looked at Monty for a moment before continuing, "you know you could, right? If you wanted to, that is. I don't want you to feel like you have to hold back.” 

She waved a hand. “I mean, god knows the rest of us never let up on the affection or talking about our sex lives. I know this is a little weird since it's you and Murphy, but we can take it." She offered a soft smile. “And we would never want you to feel uncomfortable around us. We are all friends, after all."

Clarke shifted in her seat. "Thanks, Harper, really, but I just don't think it's like that." 

_And thank God for that_ , he mused. Clarke looked at Bellamy for a moment, but before he could really gauge how she was feeling, she glanced away. 

Shit. 

His ease suddenly disappeared. It turned to dread. Maybe it was _his_ fault that Clarke and Murphy never did anything whenever someone else was around. Maybe their conversation the other night made her think she wasn’t allowed to do stuff with Murphy. Like he was judging her or something. Which, despite all the awkwardness he felt about the two of them and their arrangement, he definitely didn’t. She was allowed to do whatever she wanted. Or whoever. Even if it made him feel a little nauseous. 

"What're we talking about?" Jasper asked, a little more solemn than he'd been before he approached the bar. "Please, tell me it's anything other than how hard I struck out."

"You didn't strike out that bad," Echo said.

Emori offered what Bellamy thought was supposed to be a supportive smile.

"Murphy and Clarke," Monty grumbled, glancing at Emori before looking back at the table.

At that, Emori waved a hand. “By all means continue, please.”

Jasper pointed at Clarke. "I actually have a theory about this.”

Clarke raised a brow. "Do tell.”

"You guys are faking it,” he said, triumphantly.

At that, she paled, but cooled her expression into one of dismissal as she asked, "Oh, yeah? And what makes you think that?"

"You never even kiss. You really expect us to think you're going to Pound Town together?" Jasper raised his brows.

Bellamy winced when he said that. He hoped no one noticed.

Clarke rolled her eyes and mumbled, "I really don't get what the big deal of me and Murphy not being all over each other in front of you guys is.” She looked around at them. "I thought you'd be relieved."

"Oh, we are, immensely," Monty replied. "But even I have to admit that it's a little weird."

She turned to Bellamy. "Do you think it's weird?"

He nearly choked on his beer. "I, uh," he met Monty's eye, who shook his head so slightly he almost missed it. "Maybe a little?” 

It might’ve just been the crappy AC in Grounders, but Bellamy felt a little faint now that he was suddenly put on the spot. Though, really, he didn’t know why. It was fine, what Clarke and Murphy were doing. 

He found himself still speaking. “I mean, you two should do whatever you wanna do. Like Harper said, don't hold back.” Clarke frowned, so he added, "Really, it's no big deal. The two of you are...Whatever the hell you are. But that doesn't mean you have to hide it. You told us all so you didn't have to lie to us anymore. So, you know, stop acting like you are."

Monty kicked him under the table.

Harper's eyebrows knit together as if she hadn't just been arguing the same exact thing. 

"Huh," was all Clarke said in response.

"Guess who is the best chef in the universe?" Murphy said in a sing-song voice that was more of a shout from the front door. The new bartender shot him a dirty look but still gave him the beer he ordered.

He leaned against the side of the booth Bellamy and Clarke were sitting in and smirked at her. "Made your favorite dessert today. So perfect I deserve an award.”

Clarke groaned. "Don't you know better than to mention tiramisu in my presence when I don't have immediate access to it?”

He shrugged. "I live to screw with you."

She rolled her eyes and then paused. Bellamy was about to suggest they all go to the restaurant where Murphy worked as a sous chef sometime next week so Clarke could see for herself just how good the dessert was there. But before he could, she grabbed Murphy by the shirt and dragged him into a kiss.

It didn't even last very long, but for a second, Bellamy thought he was going to pass out. He was close enough that he could see she was smirking around his lips. 

When she pulled back, she said, "Nope. You live to _screw me._ "

Murphy was grinning, looking down at her in confusion and maybe a little bit of awe.

From across the bar, O wolf-whistled. She swatted at Raven. "I told you they'd be all over each other eventually, didn't I?"

Raven narrowed her eyes and flicked them up and down. “Please. Like that even counts.” Then she went back to shooting darts with Lincoln, who just looked vaguely uncomfortable.

Clarke was blushing slightly as she leaned back in her seat. Meanwhile, Bellamy was blinking rapidly and trying to will himself not to look as bad as he felt. He had seen Clarke kiss people before. Finn and Lexa and a smattering of others. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. Especially not when she and Murphy weren’t even dating. Murphy looked over Clarke's head at Bellamy, and yeah, he could tell his efforts hadn't worked. He drained his beer and got up without looking at anyone.

"Next rounds on me," he tossed back at the group.

Bellamy placed an order for another round and let out a slow breath. He heard someone approach and knew it was Clarke who had followed him without even having to look. She leaned against the bartop, though it was no doubt filthy. 

He was about to warn her of all the potential diseases that were probably on that thing, when she said, "I hope that wasn't too gross.” She leaned closer. "I wouldn't have done it if you hadn't said it was okay."

Clarke wasn't looking at him, which was probably for the best because he was about one second away from spontaneously combusting after the kiss. And then plus _that_ admission. The fact that he was the reason for Clarke deciding she could kiss Murphy in front of everyone was on his top ten list of terrible things he had ever experienced. And he'd been through a lot of shit.

"Oh, well, you sure did it," was all he could muster.

"Yep," she said, popping the 'p'.

He nudged her shoulder with his arm. "It'll be alright. I promise.”

She looked up at him, and her lips twitched up. "Yeah," she said as if she were trying to convince herself. After a moment, she looked behind her and told him, "Well, Murphy and I are actually gonna split. If that's alright?”

He forced himself to shrug. Jesus, the fuck was wrong with him? This wasn’t how he treated his friends. This wasn’t how he treated _Clarke_ —it all felt so wrong. And not just the Murphy and Clarke kissing part.

Bellamy accepted the new round of drinks. “You don't need my permission, Clarke.”

“I know, I know.” She smiled, this time, brighter than before. "It still feels good to have your support though."

“Yo, my bed awaits!” Murphy called over from the booth.

Her cheeks turned pink and she fired a glare in his direction. “Go have fun in it without me, then.”

Murphy pouted, and she shook her head, but she was laughing.

“See you,” she said to him, squeezing his arm. Which shouldn't have had nearly as much impact as it did. Bellamy shook his head and took a sip from his glass. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t clear his head. Couldn’t shake the image of Clarke laughing at Murphy and them going home together.

He nodded. "Yeah, see you back at home.”

The two of them walked out together, and he grabbed the others’ drinks and went back over to the booth.

It didn't occur to Bellamy until he and Echo were getting ready for bed that for the first time since she and Murphy told him the truth, Clarke didn’t mention coming home that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading ❤︎
> 
> you can find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)
> 
> a million thank yous to shae (@shaeheda on twitter and tumblr) for her amazing support of this story


	4. I Had it Up in Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, lovelies!! thank you so much for the amazing response to my re-posting this fic. it really has made me so grateful and overjoyed that people have dedicated any kind of time to my story. 
> 
> this chapter focuses on how Bellamy and Clarke are coping with the situation, with some interventions from friends, as well as Raven having to confront her own discomfort. 
> 
> *chapter title is from 'Bumper' by Cults*
> 
> please take care of yourself and each other. sending love 💖

Waking up with Clarke Griffin on a weekend was not an enjoyable experience. Murphy had grown used to their weekday routine, but in the month and a half they'd been doing it, they'd never slept at each other's places on a Friday or Saturday night before. 

He supposed it was partly his fault because he forgot that he'd accidentally left his alarm on for six-thirty when he didn't even have to be at the restaurant that day. When it had shaken them both from sleep, she repeatedly beat him with a pillow until he managed to shut it off. But other than that, he was an innocent victim to the rage machine who fell asleep beside him. She stole all the covers, so he spent half the night trying to either get them back. Or, preventing them from being ripped out of his goddamn hands. When he woke up at eight, a perfectly reasonable time, she made some terrifying noises and called him a "butthead," for daring to shift the bed. Even then, she slept for almost another two hours after that.

When she finally emerged, hair sticking up in every direction and stifling a yawn, she looked around the kitchen in disbelief, and muttered, “Where's the coffee?”

Murphy shrugged and took a sip of orange juice. “I don't have any. Caffeine is for the weak,” he replied.

Her eyes narrowed, mouth twisted into a grimace, and hell, he felt a hot shock of fear go up his back. 

Clarke took a breath, attempted to smooth down a lock of hair, and said slowly, “I'm going to go shower. And when I come back out in twenty minutes, there will be coffee. Black. In the biggest container that you can find.” 

And she turned and walked back in the direction of his room.

He stared in shock for a minute before she shouted from behind the door, “Nineteen minutes, Butthead!”

Murphy had never gotten ready and out the door of his apartment so fast.

When he presented the coffee to her, she took a sip and smiled a little, but he could tell it wasn't up to par. “Good, but the shop on 7th is less strictly bitter, and Bellamy says the beans there are of higher quality.”

That annoyed him a little, and he snorted. “Then why don't you sleep in Bellamy's bed?” 

It was the wrong thing to say, and he knew it.

The look on her face made him think he'd kicked a kitten, so he mumbled out an apology. But since she was Clarke, she wouldn't let him off easy, which normally he appreciated.

This time, she tilted her head to the side and smiled with fake sweetness. “Oh, I will. When _you_ admit to Raven that you wanna run towards her in a field of wildflowers while wearing a brown suede vest.”

He deserved that, he knew it. So, he rolled his eyes, but he took it. _That_ seemed to put her in a better mood.

“Come on,” he said, “I bet you a blow job my pancakes taste better than Bellamy's.”

She grinned. “Have you tasted those shits?” She shook her head. “You're on.”

Clarke, or rather, Bellamy, lost. Even though he told her he'd only been kidding about the blow job, she did it anyway. It was awesome.

* * *

After six months of Bellamy barely tolerating Lincoln's presence, O had declared that the two of them had to have mandatory bonding time or she was going to lock them in a closet until they were friends, or at least, civil.

Not wanting to live out the plot of a romantic comedy trope with his little sister's boyfriend, he begrudgingly agreed. Now, he actually looked forward to playing basketball with him, even though he never had a chance in hell of winning. When Bellamy and O hadn't spoken for almost eight months, he and Lincoln had continued the tradition. It was the only way he even knew she was alive.

Miller started joining in not long after he and O got into their massive fight, which he suspected had a lot to do with him wanting to look out for Bellamy without smothering him. Jackson came when he wasn't on shift at the hospital, and even Monty, Jasper, and Murphy started coming once he and O made tentative steps to repair their relationship.

They collectively grimaced when O flippantly said it was “cute” that they all got together for “guy time”.

The entire group happened to have that Sunday morning free, and he didn't feel bad about abandoning Echo, either. She had kickboxing with Emori every Sunday morning. She'd been particularly happy when she left his place today because Raven had agreed to let out some stress she was dealing with at work, and join them. Raven was hesitant because she didn't think it'd ever work with her leg. But Emori was positive she had developed a system that wouldn't fail, and they were finally going to try it out.

When he got to the park, everyone else was already there, except Murphy.

“Where's the cockroach?” he asked, dropping his gym bag onto the grass near the best of the basketball courts, which was thankfully empty, even at this time on a weekend. No need for Lincoln to stare down the group of teenagers until they relinquished the court to them.

Monty and Miller exchanged a look. Jasper kicked a pebble.

Only Lincoln was brave enough to answer, “He said, and I quote, ‘I'm staying in bed all day today. Please only contact me if a miracle happens. Like Bellamy winning the game.’”

That sounded strange, even for Murphy. He wasn’t the type to spend all day sleeping. It gave him pause and made him consider what would change his mind.

Bellamy’s face must've done something, because Lincoln added, “He's probably just being a lazy ass and doesn't feel like getting beaten into the dirt again.”

Monty jumped in, “Yeah, I mean, it's not the first time he's bailed.”

Jasper nodded vigorously. For once, he wasn't wearing his goggles. If he had, they would've definitely fallen right off. Meanwhile, Jackson was inspecting the basketball as if he were in one of those _Davinci Code_ books and it held the key to unlocking the final secrets.

Finally, Bellamy shook his head, and said, a little bewildered, “Clarke slept over at his last night.”

Miller shrugged. “So what? Don't her, Harper and Octavia have a ceramics class at ten?” He glanced at his watch. “It's almost that time now.”

Monty looked pained. Though he did his best to cover it up, it wasn’t quite fast enough. 

“What?” Bellamy asked.

Monty looked at Lincoln, who nodded solemnly. Monty swallowed before speaking. “She texted Harper. Said she was missing it today.”

“Oh,” was all he could get out. “Is that all she said?” He didn’t know if he actually wanted to know the answer to that. 

“Um…” Monty trailed off, his voice getting a little pitchy.

“Doesn't mean they're together. She could have to do some work or be sick or something,” Jasper said. Jackson looked at him for the first time, agreeing with Jasper. Bellamy didn’t buy it though. It seemed too enthusiastic, even rehearsed.

Lincoln rolled his eyes. “You guys are cowards,” he shot at the others. Monty and Jasper looked sheepish, Miller turned stony, and Jackson once again focused on the ball. He continued, “Octavia wouldn't let up until Clarke told her that she was staying in bed with Murphy all day, alright? Now, can we just play?”

He hated the images that played out in his head. Not only because they made him vaguely ill. But also because he knew he shouldn’t care. Clarke and him had talked. Things were good between them. His mind couldn’t deal with it though. That she was going to spend all day in bed with Murphy. The whole situation weirded him out before, but now? Now it made Bellamy want to never see or speak to him again. It made him want to demand why the hell she wanted to keep this up. Which was absurd. What was wrong with him? God. He needed to get over it. They weren’t going to ruin the group, Clarke made him see that. So why couldn’t he let it go and move on? 

“Absolutely,” Bellamy said, pushing his thoughts of turmoil away. He followed it with a shrug, trying for nonchalance. “I mean, I don't care. If that's what you guys think.”

Not even Lincoln had the guts to respond to _that._ Bellamy wasn’t sure he could blame him. It was even getting difficult for him to believe he really meant what he told them. 

They divided up into teams. Lincoln, Jackson, and Jasper, and Monty, Miller, and Bellamy. Miller and Lincoln were almost matched in skill, as were Monty and Jackson. He knew he wasn't great, especially compared to Lincoln, but whatever. He was better than Jasper. If only by a little. He had been captain of the soccer team in high school, okay?

Still, his skills, or lack thereof, were on another level today. He couldn't get the idea out of his head. The fact that they were spending the entire day together. In bed. Doing God knows what. It wrecked him if he was being honest. 

Even on the rare occasion that he managed to get the ball, Lincoln and Jackson barely had to try before they got it away from him. Usually, he'd make at least a couple of baskets, but he missed every shot he tried. It didn't help that he'd seen Clarke and Murphy kiss at Grounders, so his imagination had a perfect starting point to go into the worst possible scenarios. As much as he tried to not give the notes an inch, they swept into his mind, clouding it and not allowing for much else. 

“Dude, the fuck?” Miller asked when they decided to take a break after a half an hour of the most brutal ass-handing Bellamy had ever received.

He brushed it off, leaning back onto the grass. “I'm never any good,” he said, sipping from a water bottle.

Monty slumped next to him. “Yeah, but usually it's not this _sad_.”

Jackson, Jasper, and Lincoln exchanged high-fives and grinned at each other, but sobered when Miller shot them a glare. Monty coughed. A pathetically fake one, too. Miller opened his mouth and then closed it again. Jasper bounced from foot to foot as if he had to pee. Lincoln grumbled something about, “being the only damn adult amongst you idiots.” Jackson caught the other's eye and shook his head slightly, Bellamy noticed, but Lincoln didn't heed the other's warning.

“Bellamy.” Lincoln sighed. “You have to talk about this shit, or you're gonna explode one day. As much as that would be hilarious to witness, Octavia is worried about you.” He eyed everyone else. “We all are.”

He knew what he was talking about without him even saying it. But it was ridiculous. Really, the entire thing was, the more he thought about it. The fact that they were sleeping together. The fact that it bothered him so much. It didn’t seem right or rational or hell, smart. He didn’t know why he cared so much, and frankly, he didn’t want to find out. 

Bellamy decided to refuse to play along. “Worried about what?” No one said anything, but it was all over their faces that they wanted to and that they thought he wasn’t being honest. Which he supposed was fair. 

He shook his head and tried for a laugh. “Oh come on, you guys, It's not like that.” When that didn't convince them, he went on, “I'm fine, okay? I told Clarke that she could whatever she wanted with him, alright? We talked it through, and I know now that there’s nothing for me to worry about.” He cleared his throat. “And, you know, Murphy and I haven't maybe explicitly discussed it, but I would say the same thing to him.

Even though no one argued this point, he found himself admitting, almost against his will and certainly his better judgment, “I mean, I was a little pissed at first, but that's only because I didn't want them screwing with the group dynamic. But nothing's really changed, and they haven't messed up yet, so, you know. Everything's good.”

But Bellamy realized once he started, he couldn't stop. “Is it a little weird that they're spending all day in bed together when even Echo and I haven't done that, I don't know, _maybe_.” 

His voice got higher than he'd ever heard it. Monty's eyes were wide and looked like they were gonna pop out of his head.

Bellamy didn't let that stop him though, he plowed on, even as a more sensible part of him told him to quit it. “I. Am. Engaged. Okay? And I'm really freaking happy with Echo. I love her. In fact, I am not only happy for myself. I am happy for _them_. Not just happy,” he clarified, “but overjoyed.”

Jasper made a sound that vaguely resembled a dying walrus, and Bellamy knew what those sounded like. He and Clarke had gotten high and watched _Planet Earth_ together after she told him that she and Lexa broke up. It’d been fun until the documentary started talking about how wolves mated for life and she started crying. After that, it’d been mostly Bellamy trying to convince Clarke that she was going to be fine without Lexa. Though he didn’t think he convinced her. 

Miller’s response was to place a hand over his mouth. Jackson squinted at him.

“That entire thing was pathetic,” Lincoln said. He shot the basketball at Bellamy, who caught it. “You hate this. You hate that they're sleeping together. But they are, and there’s nothing you can do about it. So, you have to make good with it, or _you're_ gonna be the one to ruin things in the group."

Bellamy scoffed. “I told you. I'm _fine_.”

He couldn’t even convince himself that that was even the slightest bit of the truth though. For a second, he hoped they would all drop it, and it seemed like they would, but then, when did he ever get off that easy?

“Oh my god!” Jasper burst out. “We all know you're a complete disaster and that little speech just proved it and if you don't open up about this we're all gonna die." He got the rest out so quickly it all sounded like one word. Monty patted him sympathetically on the shoulder.

Monty looked over at Bellamy like _he_ was the disappointed dad, and gestured to Jasper. “Seriously, Bellamy, look at him, he's got anxiety! More than usual!”

Jasper nodded, “My therapist told me you sound like someone who's in 'emotional turmoil,’” he said, putting air quotes around the last two words.

Bellamy opened his mouth to argue but realized he didn't have one. After a long moment, when no one said anything but looked at him expectantly, he managed to let out a bit of the truth. 

“Is it that obvious I’m this bothered by the whole thing?”

Lincoln, the only brave soul among them, didn't hesitate, “Yes.”

Bellamy swallowed, filled with dread by the prospect that he might be the one to ruin his friendships. The ones he’d worked so hard to have. The ones he wasn’t sure he deserved if he was going to be this much of a jerk about two of them having a casual relationship. 

“Does Clarke know?”

Miller shook his head. “Doubt it. Between her breakup with Lexa and this new thing with Murphy…” He shrugged. “I brought it up once. She was nervous at first, but now it doesn’t seem like she thinks you have a problem with what’s going on.”

Bellamy let out a relieved breath. Then, something even worse occurred to him. “Shit. Does Echo know?” 

That probably should've been his first question, really. It should've told him something pretty damn important that it wasn't, but he didn't let himself dwell on that for too long. He wasn’t ready to confront what that was all about. Not that he thought he ever would be. 

Monty spoke up. “She talked to Harper and Emori about it, one night, when they were all drunk, about a week ago. I think Harper convinced her that she was just nervous about the wedding and everything moving forward between you guys at the same time Clarke and Murphy told us they were, you know.”

Fuck, did he ever.

“But?” Bellamy asked. Because he sensed it was there in what he said. 

Monty said, “Echo is far from dumb. She's always been able to read people, and she suspects.” He faltered. “But, she does love you. Plus, you _proposed_.” He looked more than just sad when he added, “She wants it to work."

“I do too,” Bellamy said because it was the truth.

He did love Echo, wanted to have the life with her they’d been discussing for the last six months or so. Maybe it wasn’t what he always imagined for himself, but things changed. People changed. He wanted to make her happy.

“Well, then, you know…” Monty swallowed, but Miller cut in.

“You can talk about it with us. All the crap you’ve been keeping in. When you need to let it out, you can tell us.” He looked around at the others, who seemed to agree. “We won't let anything get back to Clarke or Echo. Or hell, Murphy. If it’ll help you feel like you can rant about it, we wanna be here, as sappy as it sounds.”

Bellamy disagreed, he didn’t need to let anything out. If anything, he needed to hold more in. “Guys…”

Lincoln silenced him with a look. “Things aren’t going away anytime soon. And you seem to really want to marry Echo, not that I’m involving myself in that decision, but if you want to not ruin shit between you and Clarke or you and Echo or even you and Murphy, then you're gonna need to let out your shit about the…”

“Clurphy situation,” Jasper finished, nodding gravely. Lincoln looked less than enthused, but he nodded.

There really wasn't anything he could say that was going to convince them otherwise. He had no choice but to agree. 

“Alright.” Bellamy let out a breath. “Next time I get, you know, in emotional turmoil.” He shot Jasper a glare. “I'll come and be a little bitch about it to one of you.”

They all looked relieved at that. Bellamy figured he'd say more, something about how much he loved Echo and was excited about his marriage with her, but before he could, a group of menacing thirteen-year-olds arrived at the court.

“Hey, old men!” One of them, a kid named Ethan, shouted. “If you're done braiding each other's hair and painting your nails, how about we play a game? Loser has to buy the other Italian ice?”

“You're on!” Jasper replied, jumping up.

Bellamy stood up, and Lincoln clapped him on the shoulder.

“Come on,” he said. “If nothing else, getting our asses kicked by a bunch of kids will definitely take your mind off of things.”

He laughed, he had a point, maybe it would help. Because even with Lincoln, there was no way they were winning.

* * *

Harper argued that since the guys had basketball, the girls deserved to have time just for themselves too. No one had the heart to deny her anything when she gave them those puppy dogs eyes. The resulting smile she gave when Clarke and the others all agreed was also worth it.

Unlike the guys with basketball, they didn't all necessarily get together every week or have a specific day or set activity they did. The last of which was mainly because they couldn't all agree on one thing. So, they took turns, since Raven argued that was the only fair way to do it.

Today was Harper's pick, which meant a fancy wine tasting an hour away from Arkadia that Octavia protested all the way up to the front door. Clarke preferred beer or the harder stuff as well. Plus, the whole thing gave her unseemly flashbacks to her relationship with her mother before everything had gone downhill. For her friend's sake though, she kept quiet.

“I bet everyone here is an asshole with a pole up their ass,” Octavia grumbled but followed the rest of them onto the outdoor area where the restaurant had set them up.

The get-togethers had been awkward for a bit when Harper first started inviting Echo. Mainly because of her and Octavia's history, but Clarke wasn't above admitting her own role in it as well. It wasn't that she was jealous, she’d argued to Raven one night at Grounders. It was that she was afraid of losing Bellamy's friendship, that he would get sucked into the relationship and never come out. Once she realized that she and Bellamy would always be friends, no matter how or if he and Echo got serious, things were a lot easier.

Once they were seated and given the first round of red wine, Clarke let the others make comments about it. Talking about hints of chocolate or bitter versus sweet. She knew the terms, but also knew that Raven and Emori would make fun of her if she ever used them seriously. Which, if she was them, she would've as well.

They talked about work for a while, since all of them were in such different fields.

Harper was easily the best yoga instructor in the neighborhood. She'd been saving up for her own studio and wellness center since they'd graduated school. 

She took a sip of wine and groaned. “You guys, I'm so close to having enough money for my own place. I can practically taste the cucumber water I'm gonna have at the front desk.”

Raven was kicking ass at BECCA tech. “You can all be assured, Engineer of the Year 2020 is mine,” she said. “As long as this idiot Sterling stops trying to take credit for my work.”

Emori waved her non-scarred hand as she talked about the expansion of the gym. How she wanted to offer a bigger variety of classes when she had space and the money to pay for more trainers. “I'm telling you guys,” she raved. “ _Emori's_ is gonna take over the world one day.”

They all believed her without a doubt. 

When Clarke was asked, she told them about the new show that she was organizing. Not the first she'd done on her own by any means. But the first for such a high profile artist. She let out a breath and set down her glass. “I know I can do it, but if I fuck up, I'm pretty sure this Russell guy will make sure I never work again. And his wife is even scarier.”

Octavia was working as a social worker, which she commented, “The pay is shit, as always, because god forbid you actually pay people what they deserve, and value the work social workers do, but it's amazing.” She took a sip of wine. “Even if it doesn't always end perfectly, at least one out of every seven of my kids is a success. They come back and tell me that my dumbass inspired them to get their shit together.”

She laughed, but then turned serious, and added, “There was this one kid, twelve, both parents drug addicts, who I told my whole freaking story to, and she just came back, nine months later. She'd decided to stop running away from her foster homes after only a week. Said the first two were shit, but that the third was good, and had decided to adopt her. Not only that, but they were willing to get her anger management classes, and she hadn't been in a fight in a month, when before she was getting in them practically every day. Apparently, she realized if she didn't get help, she was gonna end up like me.” Octavia waved a hand. “Which, really, how could I actually be insulted by, you know? But then she said, 'not that that would be so bad, though'.” She gave a genuine smile at that.

“You've done a really good job. Getting things back, working on yourself. It's really impressive,” Clarke said after no one spoke up for a bit. “And I know Bellamy's proud of you.”

Octavia swiped at her eyes after that. “I have allergies, okay!” No one believed her, but they let her have it.

Echo worked for the mayor's office, so there wasn't much she could say. “However,” she told them, a little wryly. “I can confirm we have spoken to Infrastructure, and we are working on getting that damn pothole on 8th and Chesnut street taken care of.”

This was met with a chorus of “thank god,” and “seriously, that thing is death's embrace waiting to take me,” and “it's about damn time,” all of which made Echo laugh, which was a rare sight.

Then they ate and waited until they'd all sobered up enough to drive, splitting into two cars. Originally, Clarke had been with Echo and Raven, since Echo had already been at her place, and the other only lived a block away. She assumed it'd be the same way going back.

But Emori shouted, “Echo and Raven and I have bride and bridesmaid things to discuss!” Octavia made a noise of protest, but it didn't sound nearly as offended as she usually was when she wasn't included in something, Emori went on, “ _Sexy_ bride things!” This made Octavia pretend to throw up and Clarke more than happy to make the trip back in Harper's Outback.

Octavia claimed the back for herself since she said she was still feeling a little tipsy and wanted to spread her legs out on the other seat, so Clarke got into the passenger side.

Harper pulled up a playlist on Spotify, some folksy pop that she never listened to, but was better than the EDM Murphy had tried to make her like.

Really, she should've recognized it for what it was: an ambush.

“So,” Harper said, not taking her eyes off the road. “How're you feeling about the whole wedding thing?”

Clarke furrowed her brow. “Fine. Why do you ask?”

Harper pressed her lips into a thin line. “It's just that, things are gonna be really different once Echo and Bellamy are married.”

This made her frown. She hadn't even thought about that as a possibility. “I mean, aside from him moving out, I don't see how. Or why.”

Her reaction seemed to not surprise Harper in the slightest, who swallowed. “Well, a lot changes when you get married.”

Clarke knew it was a bitch thing to do, but she asked, “Cause you'd know?”

If it was anyone else, they would've snapped back, but Harper didn’t. “Well, you know. Things were really different between me and my little brother when he got married. He didn't mean them to be, they just were. It took us a while to find a new normal.”

“Right.” She thought it over, only allowing the possibility for a moment. “Well, I don't think that's gonna happen here. Bellamy said when he told me he was getting engaged that nothing would change between us, so.” She shrugged.

Harper glanced in her rearview mirror but didn't say anything else.

Or at least, she didn't have the opportunity to, because Octavia blurted out, “Oh my god, you're so not cool with this wedding!” 

Clarke couldn’t even respond because she kept at it. “And I think it might be because you're so in love with him and you don't even know it. But this whole thing is clearly destroying you, which I think is why you're sleeping with Murphy but I haven't been able to confirm it.” She looked at Harper. “And I told you that it wasn't about Lexa.” Then she went back to Clarke. “So, you need to tell Bellamy you’re in love with him before he marries that random hoe!”

“Please," Harper said. “Do not call Echo 'that random hoe'. She is our friend.”

“But she isn't Clarke!” Octavia exclaimed.

Harper seemed to have no response to that.

She knew she had to speak up then or make them think that she loved Bellamy. While she could admit it to herself and Murphy, there was no way she was ready (or ever would be) for anyone else to know. It was messed up as it was. If they were even suspecting that she might have feelings for Bellamy, then her and Murphy’s plan was already failing. She had to convince them that they were wrong.

“Clarke here,” she said, raising her hand. “And I wanna point out that I am _not_ in love with Bellamy, okay? I am happy for him. For them” she corrected. It sounded a lot better, to her, at least. “And I'm not sleeping with Murphy because of their engagement. I am sleeping with Murphy...Because I am.” She added, “I’m having fun, and I think I deserve that. But it certainly doesn’t mean I’m falling apart about Bellamy and Echo getting married.”

She risked looking over her shoulder at Octavia. Which was a massively bad call. Octavia narrowed her eyes and stared at her as if she'd grown a second head.

“Why aren't you in love with Bellamy?” she demanded.

Clarke sputtered. She didn’t have a response to that that even sounded convincing in he head. “I don't know,” she managed. “I don't feel that way about him. He's my best friend. That's it.”

Octavia slapped a hand over her forehead and closed her eyes. “Harper, help me out here, I don't even...I can't accept this much bullshit after four glasses of wine midday.”

Clarke sucked on her teeth. “It is not bullshit, it's the truth.”

Harper looked like she was debating jumping out of the car. Then she took a breath, and said, “If Clarke says she isn't in love with him, and that she is happy for him and Echo, then maybe she is.”

Octavia’s jaw dropped and she shook her head. “Traitor. You and I decided we were in this together when we were in the bathroom.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Thank you, Harper,” Clarke grinned in victory.

Octavia rolled her eyes. “You really think you've won something, don't you?”

“Yep,” she replied, still grinning

“I'm texting Lincoln,” Octavia told them, waving a hand of dismissal. “We're getting schwasted tonight to forgot about how dumb all of our friends are.”

“I hope you have a great time," Clarke told her, smug.

Octavia muttered a string of curses but didn't say anything else. Harper turned the music up a little bit louder, and they drove the rest of the way back to Arkadia in loaded silence.

* * *

Sometimes, Raven forgot to be pissed at Murphy for the various things he’d done or was doing at any given time. Like when they having their weekly _Peaky Blinders_ watch. They recently started season two, and it was getting wild. Murphy just got so...Into whatever they were watching. So much so that he didn't notice when she slid her eyes over at him. Though she would never tell him so, she had decided he was pretty damn good-looking. Not in an obvious way. But in a kind of criminal, but would still tuck you into bed with a kiss on the forehead, way. Like someone out of a John Hughes movie. She didn't know what that said about her, and she had a feeling she wouldn’t like it even if she did.

Shaw was at his place since he had yet another early morning at ELIGIUS, where he worked designing cars and high-tech bikes. He sometimes joked it made him a high-class mechanic. Murphy took this as an opening to refer to him as a plain old mechanic. Raven thought it was kind of a dumb thing for Shaw to continue to be insulted by, even after months. But he was, so she gave Murphy crap every time it came up.

Risking another glance to her right, she noticed that Murphy's eyes had gone a little wide and he seemed to be holding in a breath. She felt herself smirk and think: _that's cute_. Only to remember where she was and who she was and who she was thinking about. Well, she thought to herself, that was beyond upsetting. Bordering on disgusting. She went back to watching the show and stayed incredibly attentive, and tense if she was being honest, the rest of the episode.

When the credits began to roll, Murphy breathed out. “Oh my god. They just—” He shook his head. “Fucking Thomas Shelby, man.” He grinned so wide it made Raven laugh.

“You getting ready for your big experimentation at twenty-eight?” she asked.

“Hey,” he shot her a look. “Firstly, you of all people know that I would do anything, anywhere with Thomas Shelby. Secondly, I am still twenty-seven, thank you very much.”

She snorted. What a dumbass. “For like, three months.”

“Still counts, which means you still have time to cradle rob me,” he fired back.

Then he went to start clearing away their dishes. When they first began exchanging comments like that one, Raven had been worried he might have a crush on her. But soon she realized that was just their dynamic. Like she’d told Shaw, it was a strange one, but it worked for them. After years of animosity, she figured they were allowed to be a little weird.

She scoffed and helped him get the last of the glasses. “In your dreams.”

He always cooked for their TV watching nights, bringing over this fancy Tupperware that she relentlessly mocked him for. This week, it'd been flatbread (which she claimed was just a bullshit fancy term for pizza which he’d looked so offended by she’d laughed) with fresh tomato sauce, sausage, and mozzarella. They'd done tiramisu for dessert.

When she and Murphy finished with the dishes, she noticed a little Tupperware of tiramisu left on the counter. She wasn't stupid. In fact, she was a genius, so she figured it out right away.

“You going to see Clarke after this?” she asked, hating the way her tone changed from the joking one it’d been before to something that might’ve resembled annoyance.

He looked down at his shoes, and blushed a little, but nodded. “Yeah, she kinda found out I was making it and I think she'd kill me if I didn't give her some.”

“Some _dessert_ ," Raven said, her voice a delicate balance between a threat and teasing. She wanted it to sound lighter than it did, but for some reason, she couldn’t force it. 

He squinted his eyes at her, looking more confused than anything else. “Yeah...Well, we'll probably, you know.” He shrugged.

She cleared her throat, which she hadn't realized had gotten all tight. It must've been all the food and wine and no water. “Right.”

“Anyways,” he said. “I'm gonna,” and he nodded towards the door.

She followed him out. He was reaching for the doorknob when she found herself getting out, long before she could stop herself, “Why her? Why Clarke?”

It was a question she’d asked herself before. With a different guy. Almost a different life ago. Raven couldn’t believe she was actually saying the words now though. To Murphy. Something was clearly wrong with her. Murphy paused and turned around. They were teetering on very dangerous territory. She felt it. Things had only just begun to ease back into their strange brand of normalcy between them. For her to demand anything from him about his new development in his sex life could spell disaster.

But he gave her his signature smirk, and said, “Cause you were already with Gary the mechanic, Reyes.”

She rolled her eyes, of course, he was fucking with her. It was good though, that he was. Kept the moment from becoming far too serious or bringing up who knew what. Yeah, he knew exactly what she needed to hear.

“Asshole,” she said. But there was fondness in her tone.

When she shoved his shoulder, he smirked even more. “As if you expected anything else.”

“Whatever.” Her voice was back to normal now. Well, normal for the two of them. “See you next week?”

“Wouldn't miss it for the end of the world," he told her, which made her roll her eyes again.

Raven locked the door behind him and looked around at her, now empty, apartment. It felt lonely, which didn't even make sense. Though she did her best to prevent the thought, she couldn't help but miss the little shit. As a begrudging friend and probably more like an ally, she told herself. That was all it was. Right?

No, she was right. She was _always_ right. Murphy barely could even be considered a friend, but she was allowed to enjoy his company. And he was allowed to sleep with anyone he wanted. She shook her hair out of its ponytail and ran a hand through it. 

So why the hell did she need to know why it had to be Clarke so bad?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading ❤︎
> 
> find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)


	5. You Weren't the Only One That Thought of Us That Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you *so* freaking much for the lovely feedback to this fic. it's so exciting to see new people and readers from the first posting of this fic. I really love hearing what you think about the changes and your excitement for the next update.
> 
> this chapter features the ever-important group game night and it's nothing without some drama!! 
> 
> and just for those who've read this fic before, yes, this chapter comes in a different place than it did in the original version—I think it works better here which is why I switched it up.
> 
> thank you so much for being such an amazing audience. sending all my love 💖💜💙
> 
> *chapter title is from 'Your Graduation' by Modern Baseball*

Game Night was more than a tradition. More than a bit of fun. It was a promise. Created after Jackson graduated from medical school, and Miller and Bellamy only had one year left of their grad programs. A promise that no matter how crazy shit got (and yeah, Raven knew just how crazy it had gotten in the last two months) as many people as possible would get together and duke it out over numerous board, video, card, or drinking games into the early morning.

They purposefully scheduled it on Friday nights, so people had very little opportunity to come up with an excuse. But when it had first been established, she and Murphy had bet that it would last a month, maybe. But somehow, it remained a staple in all of their lives. Sometimes they lost one or two people, but they were always given crap for it the next week. As their group was particularly attuned to giving one another crap, one hardly ever wanted to miss a week.

Raven brought the whiskey and mixers. Every week. Without fail. Murphy made most of the food, though Jasper and Monty had claimed the title of Snack Kings. Harper did the wine. Miller brought beer, and even lowered himself to buying the “cursed” kind that Octavia drank. Though he insisted on not purchasing it from the liquor store nearest his house because, “What would they say if they saw me buying that stuff?”

Bellamy and Clarke provided the space and the games. Their game collection was, in their words, “The most impressive known to mankind,” which Raven thought was bull, but knew better than to try and argue against the two of them.

When she and Shaw arrived, almost everyone else was already there, except Echo, who had a stomach bug. Bellamy had texted the group that he was going to stay with her, but it was met with such outrage that Echo ended up saying it was better if they only had to sacrifice one of them that week, and he gave in.

“Look who's still alive! Reyes and Whatshisface! I want you to know that I did have Liam Neeson on speed dial in case we found out you'd been kidnapped,” Murphy announced with their entrance.

“Yeah, and if it isn't my favorite Court Jester,” she shot right back. “Also, update your references, old man.”

He smirked at her, and she tried to ignore the fact that, yeah, he was kind of hot when he did that. God. She didn’t know where these, disturbing, obviously, thoughts were coming from. They’d been rearing up since Clarke and Murphy had revealed their secret, and she hated them. She knew she had to make them stop. 

It didn’t help that he probably knew he looked good when he smirked like that, too. In fact, it made it so much worse. 

Shaw waved awkwardly at the group and merely said, “Hey guys.” This was met with less enthusiasm than she'd like from her friends.

Though he'd been coming to game night for almost five months, and they'd been dating for over twice that amount, he had yet to blend in with the ease that Echo and Emori had when they'd been first brought in to the group. Raven dismissed this as the fact that he was a dude. The guys in the group, even the gay ones, were probably just more territorial than they let on. On the way over, she'd told Shaw to just relax and fire a few insults at them, and everything would be fine. He'd nodded and fiddled with his cross absentmindedly but didn’t protest. She should’ve known better than to take that as a win.

She set down the whiskey and took a bite out of one of the mini cheesecakes Murphy had brought. Fuck him, they were delicious.

“So," she said. “What're we playing first?”

“We decided to mix it up this week,” Jasper was practically bouncing on his heels.

“Which means,” Monty added. “No board games this time around. We're trying to keep everyone on their toes. You all were getting far too comfortable."

Raven raised her brows a little at that.

“They're only insisting on this because they’re still licking their wounds from me and Bellamy crushing them at _Settlers of Catan_ ," Clarke told her from her spot on the sectional. 

She flashed a grin at Bellamy and he returned it. 

“What we have can't be taught.” He shrugged and gave Monty a condescending look. “I did warn you that you didn't want to play with teams, after all.”

“Whatever,” Octavia dismissed with a wave of her hand. “We'll see you say that after we kick your asses tonight.” 

She took a seat on the couch while Raven grabbed a beer for herself and Shaw, and smirked. “Now, that sounds like a plan. I’m always down to make Clarke get all red from losing and Bellamy’s voice to crack.”

Raven ignored the protests that came from the two of them, too busy accepting a high-five from Octavia.

They settled into two rounds of Poker (much to Jasper and Murphy's disappointment, no one was drunk enough to add stripping as part of the deal), then one each of Hearts, Rummy, and Shithead. Jackson begged them to play Bullshit because he'd really been working on his lying face, but it didn't do him any good. He lost tremendously. Twice. Murphy won both times. He was insufferable. 

“I am the King of Bullshit,” Murphy proclaimed, throwing up his hands up in the air in victory after laying down his last card.

“Fitting, and finally the king of something,” Raven said. “How will you celebrate your life goals coming true?”

“Oh, I can think of a couple of ways,” he said and pulled Clarke from her seat on the couch beside him and into his lap. She huffed but didn’t swat him away, and he kissed her before Raven could even let her brain accept the scene before her.

Jasper started singing, “Clarke and Murphy sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

But then Miller cut in and said, “I think you mean, F-U-C-K-I-N-G.”

Octavia looked knowingly at Lincoln, Emori rolled her eyes, and Raven did her best to ignore the tightness in her throat.

“New game!” Bellamy proclaimed, and Raven had never been so thankful for him in her life.

Clarke untangled herself from Murphy, though she wondered if it really had to take her as long as it did.

“Truth or Dare,” Octavia said, a smirk playing across her lips.

Bellamy gave her a look. She rolled her eyes after a moment and relented, “And I promise, I won't dare Murphy to drink a weird fancy bottle to see if it's liquor or perfume.”

“That was some pretty good perfume, though.” Murphy shrugged. “Didn't even realize it wasn't booze until after it was all gone anyways.”

Raven snorted and shook her head. “That doesn't help your cause in any way, you know that right?” 

He flashed her a smile. “And what would?” There was the thought again, showing its ugly head. That she was _attracted_ to _Murphy_. There was no way this was her reality. 

Instead of replying, she shoved him from the spot on the floor where she leaning against the couch and hoped her cheeks didn't look as pink as she feared they did.

Once they’d agreed to Octavia’s proposal, they moved the coffee table so it was against the far wall of the room. The rest of them also got off the couch so they could get into a more tight-knit circle.

“Didn't realize we were all still in fucking middle school,” Lincoln grumbled.

Octavia kissed him on the cheek, which Bellamy made a face at but Clarke just patted him on the shoulder. And Lincoln did shut up about the fact that they were probably getting a bit old for this stuff. 

“Someone come at me." Harper clarified, “Either one.” She was perhaps a little drunker than Raven had seen her in a while.

“Easy. And I pick truth," Emori jumped in. “What's the weirdest thing you've done in the bedroom?" At that, Monty blushed and avoided everyone's eye, but Harper grinned.

"Oh, _please_.” She grinned and Raven cut a look at Monty, who seemed only slightly less embarrassed. “I'm not ashamed of _that,_ and really, it wasn't even all that weird. Besides, that gold bikini is a lot more comfortable than it looked in the movie.” 

That got everyone laughing.

Clarke wryly asked, "You think you could put that on sometime during 'girl time’?" She finished it with a wink, which made everyone laugh even harder.

Jasper gave Monty a fist bump, who to his credit, was still blushing, but at least wasn't interrogating his lap anymore.

“My go.” They watched as Bellamy thought about it for a minute before he looked at Miller, who started to shake his head, but Bellamy was already saying, “I dare you to shotgun one of O's beers.”

Miller made a face that actually resembled deep-seated pain, and Jackson patted him on the arm. “I believe in you.” His tone and expression were both somber.

They moved to the kitchen for a moment to witness it. Miller flipped them all off multiple times and told Bellamy, “See you in hell.” And then he chugged the beer in one long pull. They all cheered when he finished, and he shuddered and looked as if he'd have nightmares about it.

“Such a baby,” Octavia said with a flourish of her arms. “Really, they're pretty good.”

Not even her brother backed her up on that one.

Jackson had to tell everyone he'd seen the movie _When Harry Met Sally_ fifty-two times and Lincoln looked triumphant, but a little less so after Jackson vaguely threatened him. “You do know that I know how to slice the carotid artery in such a way that would have you bleed out in seconds, right?”

Octavia narrowed her eyes at Clarke, who jutted out her chin, not backing down an inch. “Give it your best shot, Octavia. Truth."

She smirked as if this was what she’d been hoping for, and asked, “Have you and Murphy ever had sex in the basement bathroom of Grounders?” 

Clarke went still and glared at Murphy, who started shaking with quiet laughter, and Raven drained her beer, even though it was half full. Suddenly, her throat was so dry she could barely swallow. 

“You little shit,” Clarke crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s not how the game works. You already know that we have.”

Octavia considered this for a moment. “Maybe so, but I wanted confirmation.”

Jasper and Monty look offended. Jackson shuddered. Miller glanced at Bellamy for a moment when he thought no one was paying attention. Shaw raised his brows at her, and she did her best to plaster a look of disgust and yet vague apathy on her face. It took far too much effort than Raven would ever admit. Even to herself.

Eventually, Jasper sputtered out, “You tainted our sacred place?” He actually did look more upset than maybe Raven felt, which she thought was impressive. “How could you?”

Murphy rolled his eyes, smirked at Clarke, and then smugly told everyone, “What can I say? My girl likes to do it in public places.”

This was met by a mix of grimaces and them all pretending to gag. Raven felt like she was going to be sick. It wasn't the fact that he and Clarke had done it at Grounders that was making her uncomfortable. Although, it really didn't help matters. She _ate and drank_ there. As Jasper said, it was a sacred place. But more than that, it was the fact that Murphy had just called Clarke _his girl_. Like it was nothing. Like he'd done it a million times before. Even though, as far as she knew, he hadn't. She didn't think it was like that. 

Raven figured Clarke would be sure to tell them all that he was just being a dumbass. Probably shoot a glare at him in the process. But she just sucked on her teeth and fired back in a fake-bright tone, “At least I'm not the one with a French maid kink.”

She could’ve sworn that Murphy looked over at her for a second before he focused back on Clarke, slouching in his position of the floor. “Well, I don’t remember hearing you complaining while you were wearing it.”

Now Raven knew she was gonna be sick.

Whenever Clarke or Murphy had previously given any hint to their relationship before, it sounded like the sex was pretty standard. Maybe even a little vanilla, but now she knew more than she ever wanted to know about their sex life, and she was finding it near impossible to not let it get to her.

They played a couple more rounds, but everyone was much more tentative with their dares and truths after that. Raven figured they'd all dismiss it as trying to avoid the Clarke and Murphy of it all as much as possible, not that she wasn't grateful, of course. But now that she knew glimmers of what they'd done together, she felt she wanted to know everything. It probably meant she'd gone full masochist or was losing her grip on being anything resembling a normal friend, but that didn't seem to matter. 

“You guys are pussies, asking each other shit you already know. I think we need to up the stakes.” Emori had a glint in her eye, and Raven knew what she was suggesting without her even having to voice it.

Monty grinned.

“Never Have I Ever, Never Have I Ever, Never Have I Ever,” Jasper started chanting, quiet at first but building on the volume as he went on.

“Absolutely not,” Clarke replied, shaking her head. 

“ _Mom,_ ” Jasper whined.

“You heard her,” Bellamy told him, gesturing with his beer. He grinned at Clarke. “Listen to your mother.” 

They were all spectacularly drunk at this point, Raven was pretty sure. 

Jasper groaned and looked at Monty. “And to think, Dad used to be the fun one.”

At that, Bellamy delicately placed a hand over his chest.

Clarke pointed a finger at Jasper and Monty. “You're grounded.”

Shaw looked at her with a puzzled expression. “Relax,” Raven told him. “They've done this before, remember?”

“Yeah, and it's still weird,” he responded.

She laughed. “I know.”

But Raven didn't know if it was the alcohol or what, but she felt vaguely insulted by the comment and decided that he wasn't going to get any when they went back to her place later.

Jasper, meanwhile, had started chanting again for Never Have I Ever again. Then Monty joined in. And Emori and Harper. And finally, Murphy said, “Fuck it,” and started in on it too. 

Clarke buried her head in hands, before huffing out, “Fine, alright! You gremlins win! We will play,” she let out a breath, “Never Have I Ever.” 

Everyone cheered, including Raven. Sue her, the whiskey and beer felt warm in her stomach, and she was letting herself enjoy the moment.

Since she had allowed them to play the game, Clarke argued that she got to go first, which everyone agreed was fair enough. “Never have I ever...woken up with a penis or an ass drawn on my face,” she said.

All of the guys drank at that, with Miller arguing that it wasn’t fair, and so did Octavia. “My friends before you guys were dicks,” she told them with a bit of a sneer.

Bellamy made a face at that since it was those people who had been part of the very reason they hadn't spoken for so long. As well as her dealings with Abby. As much as Octavia had to work on herself and her relationships with all of them due to her own behavior and decisions, like they all did, from time to time, a big part of the reason she'd gotten to such a bad place was because of Clarke's mother. No one liked to talk about that though. 

Monty quickly jumped in with the fact that he had never been straight, which didn’t make Raven drink either.

Clarke raised a brow at her, smiled, and said, “Oh, Paris.”

That got everyone's attention, particularly Murphy's, who was looking back and forth between the two women.

Raven shook her head and grinned. “Not the two of us, unfortunately. I dated one of the girls who was a student at the Sorbonne where Clarke studied. Luna something. It was nothing, really.” 

The memories she had of her relationship with Luna were fond, but it had also happened during a really difficult time in her life. When she thought she might be losing her mind, and didn’t know if she would ever get it back. It wasn’t easy to bring up those feelings again, especially after she’d been drinking.

The others seemed to accept this, though of course, Murphy asked, “You, uh, got any evidence of that ‘nothing'?”

There was a glint in his eye that made her want to punch him.

Raven snorted. “You're such a pig. Besides, even if I did, like I'd ever show you.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Was worth a shot.”

Shaw had tensed considerably beside her, and though she had decided not to check, he was probably glaring at Murphy. Served him right, she thought, though she was more entertained than anything else.

“My turn!” Emori claimed, more excited than Raven had seen in a while. They were all careening towards massive hangovers, not that any of them seemed to care. Emori tapped her chin in pretend thought. Something in her eyes flashed, and she grinned at Murphy, who gulped a little. “Hmmm,” she let out. “Never have I ever...Had a threesome.” She shrugged. “Go foursomes or go home.”

“Fuck you,” Miller shot and then clinked his beer against Jackson's and both of them drank.

“How is this one even playable?” Bellamy asked. But he got a little queasy looking when Octavia took a long sip from her can of beer.

When Jasper drank, everyone paused in disbelief. “What?” he asked, his voice getting a little higher, the way it did when he was offended. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll have you know I'm an adult man in my late twenties. Of course, I've had a threesome.”

Eventually, everyone had taken a drink, except Emori. And Murphy.

Clarke wrinkled her nose in some kind of disgust. “Foursomes for you too, I assume.” She swayed a little bit from her spot next to him. Yeah, Raven thought, they were all wasted. When did that even happen? She didn’t have time to put it together though. 

Murphy clenched his jaw. It suddenly hit her, and by the looks of it, Raven got it first. While she wanted to make a joke, she somehow...Didn't. Not because she thought it wouldn’t be funny, but because she didn’t want to actually upset him. 

“Wait, you've had group sex before, right?” Clarke asked. When Murphy said nothing and refused to look at her, she kept going, “I mean, _Jasper's_ had group sex before.” She was blinking rapidly at him, and his expression had turned stony. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry." She seemed to kind of be in shock. "I, honestly, I can't believe it. I mean, do you _want_ to have one? It's cool if you don't, you know.”

“Well,” he gestured, slightly paler than usual for him. And nervous, too, which was a rarity. “You know, of course, I want to have one, but it's...Whatever. Who cares. Let's move on.”

Raven was totally on board with that, but Clarke just couldn't let it go. She shook her head, but after a moment, she got a mischievous grin on her face. She didn't want to know what that meant, but Raven had a feeling that she was going to find out.

Clarke must've had way more than Raven thought because she proudly proclaimed in front of everyone, “We're gonna have a threesome for your birthday.” And then she settled back into her seat and took a sip from her beer as if she'd just suggested they grab a burger for dinner tomorrow.

Murphy gave her a wolfish grin. "Do I get to pick with who? Cause your friend from high school? Anya? She’s hot."

Clarke raised a brow. “You couldn't handle Anya. She comes with way too many toys. Your brain would explode. Besides, it's a _present_ , you can't make demands on it.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, but if you want suggestions I've got a whole list ready to go.”

Clarke laughed and jostled his shoulder. It was June. Murphy's birthday was at the beginning of October. Raven swallowed, she hadn't imagined Clarke and Murphy lasting. But it had worked out for them so far, so what was stopping them from continuing? She glanced at Bellamy, who's jaw was working so hard she wondered if it was possible for it to fall off.

No one really knew what to do with that, but luckily, Harper was ready to save them all. She said she'd never shoplifted, and everyone gushed about what a good citizen she was, and things fell into an easy pace after that.

The night was winding down, mostly because they were running out of booze, and Raven was about to make an excuse so she and Shaw could bail. It was never that easy to escape game night, though.

“I call the last round!” Jasper announced, and everyone rolled their eyes but grumbled approval.

“You better make it a good one," Bellamy said.

Jasper actually winked at him and grinned widely. Crap. This was going to be such a shit show, she could already sense it. “Never have I ever,” he waved his pointer finger, “had a thing for Bellamy Blake.”

Octavia wrinkled her nose in disgust and shook her head. But everyone else laughed at that, because, well, who hadn't? Still, Raven drank first, which made Shaw twitch, even though he already knew the story. Then Miller, making Bellamy smirk, and say, “Aw, bro, I had no idea you were in love with me all those years ago,” which just made Miller flip him off. Emori and Monty drank too. They looked at each other and shrugged. Bellamy was blushing like crazy at this point, all the way up to his ears. But that was nothing compared to the face he made when Clarke drained a shot she'd poured herself when no one was looking.

For a moment, everyone just stared at the two of them.

Octavia's mouth hung open for a second before she seemed to remember where she was and closed it. Monty's eyebrows had risen so far into his hairline she couldn't even see them anymore. Harper was staring aggressively at a throw pillow so as to avoid anyone's eye.

And then Jasper fucking whisper-shouted, “Oh my god, Monty. It's happening.”

Jesus Christ. Raven was going to murder him for this.

Clarke looked petrified. Probably because of the look Bellamy was giving her. And suddenly, Raven was thrilled that Echo had the stomach bug. It would’ve been an absolute nightmare if she witnessed this. Not that it wasn’t already.

“What?” Clarke asked.

Raven could tell she was trying to play it off like it was nothing. Please. As if that was possible after she just admitted to having a thing for Bellamy. And fuck. Poor Bellamy. 

She looked over at him as his brows knit together. It took him a moment before he said anything, and when he did, it wasn't much. 

He swallowed. “When?”

Clarke waved a hand and looked at Murphy briefly before returning to Bellamy. “Around Halloween, a couple of years back, right when things with Gina ended.” She laughed nervously, everything about her on edge. “Oh, come on, you _so_ knew.”

Bellamy shook his head slowly. 

_Fuck_.

Jasper was somehow still talking because this situation wasn’t bad enough. 

“He didn't know, Monty. He didn't know,” he said, hitting his best friend in the chest with the back of his hand.

Clarke got this expression on her face that would've been hilarious in any other situation. It was as if she had stuck a paper clip into an electrical socket. Now it just made Raven think of the huge mess this was going to create, and how emotions were probably the worst thing to ever happen to humankind. Or at least this friend group.

Murphy drained his beer and had the guts to do what she didn't. He stopped the shit fest before it could get any worse. “Hey, Clarke, can you come help get one last round for everyone?”

She tore her eyes away from Bellamy, and hell, Raven wondered if it didn't pain her to do it. She nodded, following him out of the room. Before anyone could do or say anything else, Raven was up. Though albeit a little unsteady on her feet. But she was still able to pull Bellamy up and out onto the patio.

* * *

Clarke was going to cry. She felt it coming. She knew it was coming. All this time. Years. She'd spent years thinking she'd made a tentative move at Halloween, and been rejected. That Bellamy was so polite he didn't say anything. Didn’t put that pressure on her or let it ruin their friendship. Now she knew that was horseshit. He had never known, didn't remember Halloween. Or, at least, not how she remembered it.

Murphy gripped her shoulders. “Okay.” He nodded. “So that was...Really, really bad, I gotta admit. Like, radioactive levels at the point where they boil our skin bad. But I need you to pull it together here.”

Clarke blinked away the tears that were beginning to form and took a shaky breath. “Okay,” she said, but her voice didn't sound sure at all.

He took a moment to ensure she wouldn’t lose it. But she could sense the gears working in his mind. The way he was going to help her with this, even though it wasn’t his problem to solve. 

“I know it doesn’t feel like it,” he said after a minute of thought. “But you can get out of this without totally ruining your life or sacrificing what little dignity you have left. It's gonna require a lot, and I mean, a lot of bullshit. You think you can do that?" Murphy asked.

She smiled a little bit through her tears. “Well, I happen to know the King of Bullshit very well, and I'm betting he has a plan.”

He grinned at her and she did manage to feel a bit better. “You bet your ass I do.”

* * *

Bellamy leaned against the fence of the patio and let out a slow breath.

"I really, really wish I hadn't quit smoking," was all he said for a couple of minutes.

Raven swallowed, unsure of what she was meant to say. Of the right thing. Or how honest he was going to be with himself during this conversation. She expected his usual denial, but really, it would’ve been easier if he admitted _why_ he was so stunned by Clarke’s confession. 

“It was a really long time ago,” she said tentatively. A part of her felt she had to warn him: Don't get your hopes up. Even while he had Echo and was happy and never told her he had those kinds of feelings for Clarke (if he even let himself acknowledge them which she was betting he didn’t) she still needed to protect him. 

He nodded. “Years.”

“And you're engaged,” she reminded him. “To someone you love. To someone who loves you.”

“Fuck,” he spat out and kicked one of the patio chairs. He looked up at Raven, but it took him a while to say anything. “What do I do?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think—” Because it wasn’t her place to tell him what to do. She didn’t know what that was, or even where to start. And she felt her track record didn’t exactly give her the experience to be the best of help in this situation. 

“Raven,” his voice sounded raw, and she almost winced. “I can't even think. I don't know what to say or do or how to get out of this without losing everything. I need you to tell me what to do.” He was practically begging.

So, Raven swallowed and made a decision that might, no, _was_ definitely going to hurt at least one of the people she cared most about in this world. But it was the smart decision, she told herself. The one that would result in the least amount of casualties. 

She took a breath before getting out, “You talk to Clarke, explain that no matter what, you'll always be friends, and then you go to Echo. To your _fiancé_.”

Bellamy seemed to be able to accept that, even if there was a bit of hesitation there. Probably for the best though, she thought, that it doesn’t go any further than that. He nodded, a little distantly.

“Alright.” He sighed. “Alright.”

* * *

When Clarke and Murphy finally emerged from the kitchen, Jasper was being hauled up by Miller. “Don't worry,” he said. “We're all walking or getting Ubers." Clarke nodded, though, if she was being honest, she hadn't been thinking about that. Or them. Only herself and Bellamy. It made her feel awful. 

Murphy squeezed her shoulder. Once everyone was gone, he asked, “Remember the plan?”

Well, everyone except Raven and Bellamy.

She nodded. “I can do this,” she murmured, mostly to herself.

Opening the patio door, she almost ran into Raven. 

“Sorry.” She stumbled back a step.

“No worries, I'll just um, I'll help Murphy clean up,” Raven said. 

Clarke couldn't even look at her for long. The pity was evident in her eyes. No fairytales here, she told herself. The only thing she could hope for was to not lose Bellamy as a friend completely. 

“Thanks,” she said, and Raven only nodded before she swept past her and back into the house.

Bellamy was sitting in one of the chairs that they’d picked out after she’d finished putting the patio together. Clarke took the seat opposite him, knowing even if she wanted to she couldn’t take one of the ones beside him. Better to send a clear message right away.

“I'm so sorry about that, Bellamy.” Her voice was thick and sounded off, but she made herself continue, “I need to explain...What that was.”

He licked his lips and then nodded. “Okay.” One very awkward moment later, he added, “So, you gonna explain sometime this year or?”

She laughed at that, grateful for his ability to soothe even the tensest of situations, and he laughed a little too.

Letting out a breath, she said, “When I drank, it was because, well, I did have something of a thing for you. That Autumn after I came back from my year in Paris.” _Okay, Griffin, now it's time to lie your ass off_ , she told herself.

“But I don't feel that way about you anymore. I mean, you're important to me, of course. You're my best friend," her voice held too much, and she reeled it back. “And I really don't want to ruin things between us, you know, it's just...I did like you. Like that.” 

She cleared her throat to go on, “But I want you to know that I haven't felt that way in years, okay? So, there is zero need for there to be any weirdness or anything. I...Can we please chalk this up to drinking too much and Jasper being Jasper?

Clarke stared at him as evenly as she possibly could, and watched as his mind worked. _Please_ , she thought, _please don't let me lose him over something as stupid as a game of Never Have I Ever_.

* * *

Bellamy might’ve been outside, but he felt claustrophobic. As if the fence of the patio was closing in around the two of them, really, around him. Clarke felt a million miles away. Though if he extended his arm, he could probably touch her. The thought was dangerous, and one that he quickly squashed. Especially since she was telling him that she hadn't wanted him in that way since she was still in school. 

When he watched her take that shot, there was no one else in that room. Hell, there might as well have been no one else on the planet. She'd looked so scared, and he'd wanted to make it go away, to make her see that she had no reason to be. But of course, when he came back to his senses after Raven had dragged him outside, he knew he couldn't do that.

Now he knew that it wasn't even needed. Clarke had been scared because she didn't want to lose his friendship. Which she shouldn't have been. Not only would he not let that happen, but he was also fairly certain he could no longer exist in a world where she wasn't a part of his life.

As her words registered, he recognized the tightness in his throat, the inability to swallow, and the feeling as if someone had his heart in their hand and were squeezing it until it threatened to turn to dust. It seemed only Clarke had the ability to bring these feelings out. He knew it made him terrible, but he found himself disappointed that she wasn't admitting to him that she still liked him in that way.

It was fucked and selfish and all kinds of wrong, to want her to feel that way about him while he was engaged, while he fully planned to tell her that he could only ever be her friend. He prided himself on being a good friend if nothing else, and wanting that from her definitely did not make him a good friend. Maybe he shouldn't have been considered a friend at all.

A small part of him protested this though, and even if he didn't want to, and also couldn't, admit to himself that it was the truth, it was. If Clarke had told him she still liked him, he didn't think there were enough competent and well-thought-out plans and good-intentioned advice from Raven to make him see sense. What he would've even done if that happened. He didn’t know what that said about him. Or them. Or anything, really.

His world had been destroyed by a game of Never Have I Ever. Because everyone drank too much. And there was nothing he could do to fix it or go back. Even if Clarke didn’t feel that way about him, the simple idea of knowing she had was enough to throw his whole life out of balance. 

Bellamy then realized she was waiting for some kind of response though, a reassurance. She was owed that, after everything. Especially since he wasn’t even sure if he was deserving of her friendship at that moment. 

He swallowed, before saying, “It's alright. I mean, it might be a little awkward for a week or so, I'm not gonna lie.” 

She winced at that. A little voice in his head chanted at him: _Liar, liar, liar_. He ignored it, telling himself that he wasn’t a liar. Not at all. Things between them were maybe more complicated than he thought before, but he loved Echo. He was marrying her. Clarke was his best friend, and that’s all she ever wanted to be. No, it’s all she ever would be. 

Going on, Bellamy told her, “But I care too much about our friendship, about you.” He paused. “To let something that happened years ago ruin it. It'll be okay, Clarke. I promise.”

The tension in her shoulders went out just the slightest bit at that. She nodded, too, allowing a small smile to grace her lips. He didn't think he'd done that great of a job convincing her, but it was as much as he could manage, given the circumstances.

"Thank you, Bellamy," she said. She was blinking a lot. As if she was trying not to cry. But he dismissed it, thinking he was probably just imagining it. “Just thank you, for being so...You."

He felt the tips of his ears go a little hot at that and hoped she didn't notice. It appeared she didn't, thankfully, though he couldn’t be sure. Since everything started with her and Murphy, she'd been so hard for him to read.

“Well, I tried my hardest to be Miller, but the beer he drinks is far too pretentious. Even for me,” he replied.

That made her laugh, which of course made him laugh. She moved chairs, so she was in the one closest to him. Outside didn't seem so bad anymore. It took them a little bit, but they fell into easier things to discuss. Like how he'd already started to think about lesson plans for his AP students and the asshole intern at the gallery that she was sure she was going to murder before the summer ended. It felt right between them, finally, though he knew the discomfort hadn’t lasted more than half an hour. It didn’t matter. It was enough.

* * *

Raven finished gathering the beer bottles and cans and emptied the last couple into the recycling bin. Meanwhile, Murphy was drying off the last wine glass. When he also was done, he draped the dishrag delicately across the sink (which he knew for certain that she would think he was a dork for doing, but whatever).

Then he turned around so he was facing her, and leaned against the counter.

For a moment, they just stared awkwardly at the floor together. But he let out something that sounded awfully like a snort, which got her laughing, a little. It didn’t take long until they were both cracking up. It was probably the booze and the stress of the entire evening, but soon, she was wiping tears from her eyes from laughing so hard. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning at his ability to bring that out.

“Can we ever just hang out without it turning into a teen drama?” she asked. 

He scoffed. “I think you're asking a little too much of our friends, Reyes.” 

“Probably,” she said. “But I really don't think I am.”

At that, he raised both brows and nodded. “Yeah, you're really not.”

That started them on a fresh round of laughter.

After a moment, she inclined her head towards the door that led outside. “What do you think is gonna come from this?”

Murphy gave her an incredulous look. He didn’t know what answer she was looking for, so he went with the truth. “Honestly? Nothing.” He sighed. At least, that’s what he and Clarke were hoping for. A way to make sure their whole friendship didn’t blow up. 

“They're Bellamy and Clarke.” He bit his lip before telling her, “And God knows they're idiots, but they're idiots who can't live without each other, and they'll find a way to pretend none of this happened and move on."

He definitely didn't feel like it was worth mentioning that he and Clarke had spent fifteen minutes developing a little speech for her to give. One that would hopefully crush any possibility of a complicated situation between the two. Well, three, if you counted in Echo. Maybe four if you included himself, but then Raven would have to be as well, and then it really sounded like a teen drama.

Raven seemed a little distressed by his answer, but she did nod. Still, she didn't seem too convinced. Murphy wondered what she and Bellamy had talked about outside. He hoped it wasn't something about Bellamy confessing his undying love for Clarke. Because that would be awkward.

“You do have a point,” she said. A second later, something dawned on her, and she muttered, “Oh, shit.”

He felt a little more triumphant than he should've allowed for himself. “You just realize now that you completely forgot about Boy Wonder?”

As pathetic as it was, it thrilled him, if he was being honest. That she'd been too busy laughing with him to remember her boyfriend. And yes, it did help to never refer to him by name in her presence, thank you very much.

“Shit,” she said, pulling out her phone and typing something out. Probably some lame apology text.

“If he's pissed, he's a jackass,” he said before he could stop himself.

God. What an idiot. Really, he thought Clarke was rough tonight. 

Raven rolled her eyes. “I just left him. He has every right to be mad at me.”

“Yeah,” he defended her, “in a room full of people that he's known for months. He's not an infant.”

She seemed to accept that a bit more. “I know,” she said, running a hand through her ponytail. “But you know as well as I do that he doesn't really feel comfortable around everyone yet.”

“And who's fault is that?" Murphy asked. 

It pissed him off that Raven was blaming herself for a guy not fitting in with their friends. That was on him, not her.

She raised a single brow at him. “Well, maybe it would help if _someone_ actually managed to call him by his name once in a while.”

He scrunched up his nose in distrust and dismissal. “What kind of name is Shaw anyways? I mean, does the dude even have a first one?”

Raven shook her head, but there was the beginning of a smirk on her lips, he could tell. Usually, he believed he was less pathetic than Clarke. With all the staring and 'casual' arm touches and the other bullshit that she did with Bellamy that she somehow had convinced herself was platonic. Recently though, he was starting to wonder if he wasn't as much of a nerd as her when it came to Raven Reyes' smirk.

He looked down for a moment, swiping with the dishrag at some little wine spill on the counter. When he glanced back up at her, she was staring at him funny. Like he was one of the pieces of crap bikes she worked on in her spare time when she wasn't being BECCA tech's Engineer of the Year ( for three years straight in 2017, 2018, and 2019—and she was robbed in 2016).

“What?” he questioned, his voice a little quieter and not at all as snarky as it usually was.

She chewed on her lip and then shook her head a little. “It's late.” He hoped she didn't see him deflate a little. “I should probably get Bellamy over to Echo's and then get home myself.”

Murphy nodded, which he was very proud of himself he could still do after receiving that look from her and then such a quick dismissal. “Right.”

Once, he'd been in a Go-Cart accident when Clarke had made him ram into a stack of hay (“you were in my way!” she'd said later) and he'd gotten a slight case of whiplash. Talking to Raven lately felt a lot like that.

They went out to the patio together. “You think we should knock this time?” He quirked up a brow and grinned.

Raven punched him lightly in the shoulder. “You're vile, Murphy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, yanking open the door.

There was no reason to knock though because just as he had predicted, they were acting as if nothing had happened. Clarke was sitting in the chair to Bellamy's right, but they were both leaning towards one another so much there was barely any space between them. They were both laughing about something and didn't even notice them for a moment.

“Look, not to bum everyone out, but I'm gonna turn into a pumpkin soon if we don't get out of here,” Raven told the two of them.

Clarke looked over at him and Raven. Then back at Bellamy. She nodded. “Echo's sick. You should go be with her.”

Bellamy seemed to hesitate for a moment, but eventually, he stood up. “You're right.”

Clarke and Murphy followed Raven and Bellamy out, where Raven grabbed her messenger bag by the door. Bellamy stuck his hands in his pockets. They both paused before stepping outside. 

Oh, Murphy thought, they were waiting for him.

He glanced at Clarke, who shrugged. 

“I'm actually gonna stay here,” he said. 

Bellamy stared at them for a moment, but finally just said, “Okay, sounds cool.”

But he had to wonder if it was, indeed, ‘cool’. 

“Oh,” Raven's voice was flat, but she recovered so quickly he almost didn't notice it. “Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “Duh.”

The second they were gone, Murphy and Clarke collapsed onto the sectional. 

“Wanna have sex?” she asked.

“Not really,” he admitted.

“Me neither,” she responded, her voice quiet and sad but then she perked up. “Wanna watch a reality TV show where people beat the shit out of each other dressed in alien and cowboy outfits?”

“That's a show?” He felt his own mood improving too, if only a bit.

“Oh, you bet your ass it is.” Clarke grabbed the remote, flicking through the channels until they got to the right one.

The show was, objectively, the best thing he'd ever seen.

Even though Murphy didn't feel like it at first, twenty minutes in he was laughing. Clarke was too. For a moment, he allowed himself to entertain the idea that he could actually have non-friendship feelings for her. It would be so easy, wouldn't it? He imagined it for a second, and yeah, it wasn't all that bad.

Then he thought about the look on her face when Clarke had been laughing with Bellamy out on the patio, and he was sure of it. She was never gonna feel that way about him. At least, not in the all-encompassing way she did for Bellamy. 

Maybe this should've upset him on some level, but then Raven's smirk popped into his head, her laugh, too, and the face she made when she was concentrating on a new project and hadn't figured it out all the way yet, and he knew it for himself too. 

He was in the same goddamn sinking ship. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading ❤︎
> 
> find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)


	6. Girl All the Bad Guys Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, lovelies! here we are at chapter six. this one is split into two parts for length and pacing reasons, so I hope that it works out. it features some group texts and the start of a wild party which will be continued in the next chapter as well. we've got loads of jealousy going on, and I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> I just wanna thank all of you who've dedicated time to my story. the feedback I've received thus far has been so heartening. I will never be able to fully express how much it means to me. 
> 
> *chapter title is from 'Girl All the Bad Guys Want' by Bowling for Soup*
> 
> sending love and good thoughts 💖💜💙

“It'll be really fun, I swear,” Clarke pleaded for the fifth time a couple of days ago when she first introduced the idea. No one in their group was particularly enthused, but she wouldn't let up. Raven wanted to tell her that it was hopeless. That no way any of them, let alone even one or two, would agree to attend one of the notorious parties thrown by Clarke's semi-girlfriend in high school, Anya. It wasn't that the party itself made everyone hesitate, but rather, that it was _themed_.

_The Delinquents Group Chat_

**Clarke:** i know it's not some of your guys' thing but i really think we're missing out on a golden opportunity to have some fun

**Miller:** you keep saying that, but i really don't think it's true.

**Clarke:** where is your guys' sense of kitsch??

**Octavia:** wtf is kitsch??

**Clarke:** seriously?! did you really not pay any attention in art history 101??

**Monty:** she was too busy checking out atom's ass

**Bellamy:** lalalalalalala shhhhhhhh no one speak of any of that here

**Lincoln:** ditto-also, that dude was a dick

**Octavia:** don't worry lincoln, you're still my fave

**Jasper: 🤮**

**Bellamy:** retweet

**Harper:** bellamy, you know what a retweet is????

**Bellamy:** fuck you

**Clarke:** BACK TO BUSINESS-the party!!!!

**Murphy:** who the fuck even throws a party where the theme is dressing as your high school self???

**Clarke:** the theme is...whatever, but anya's throwing it in this huge warehouse downtown and there will definitely be high-quality tequila there

**Emori:** fuck it, im in

**Murphy:** that's only because you would sell your soul for tequila, which you might actually be doing

**Emori:** don't be a pussy, John-afraid Clarke here won't find you hot once she sees how you used to dress?

**Clarke:** look, i didn't want to pull this card, but...i have someone for jasper. she just started working at the gallery and anya and her met when she came to pick up a piece she'd bought and she invited her too

**Bellamy:** you mean, like, to murder???

**Clarke:** ha! he wishes. someone, to you know, fuck

**Miller:** MOM

**Jackson:** tsk tsk, language!

**Monty:** what has Murphy done to her

**Murphy:** the question is, what haven't i done to her???

**Bellamy:** i will delete myself from this group

**Octavia:** that is...unseemly

**Jasper:** OH MY GOD

**Miller:** here we go

**Jasper:** I JUST GOT DONE WITH WORK

**Jasper:** I HAVEN'T BEEN LAID IN

**Jasper:** WAIT LET'S NOT GO THERE BC ITS SAD AND THIS IS NOT SAD THIS IS AMAZING

**Jasper:** WE ARE ALL GOING TO THAT FUCKING PARTY

**Raven:** why do we all have to go to a dumb party just so you can try and get laid???

**Jasper:** BECAUSE ITS GONNA BE A GROUP EFFORT TO MAKE SURE I DONT FUCK IT UP

**Lincoln:** I will come and make sure Octavia does too if you stop texting in all caps

**Jasper:** ok, ok, its all good-im cool-like frosty the snowman

**Harper:** oh dear lord, he's right. it really is gonna take all of us

**Monty:** i will be there too. finally might be able to whip out my wingman skills 

**Echo:** he's pouting about it but me and Bellamy are in. anything to help Jasper out.

**Jackson:** Nate, we're going

**Murphy:** y'all are whipped

**Raven:** eh. i think i have some of my old glasses lying around. i guess ill come.

**Murphy:** whatever, im in too. no one get too excited about it tho bc im getting belligerent the second we get through the door.

**Clarke:** awesome! now i'll text you guys the address and figure we'll all get ubers or lyfts or whichever one is least terrible that week

**Jasper:** YIPEEEEEEEE!! I BELIEVE IN OUR ABILITY TO GET ME LAID, YOU GUYS!

**Lincoln:** Jasper.

**Jasper:** sorry

* * *

Things had been going better for Bellamy recently, though that week’s previous game night made him think it would never be okay again. Somehow though, he and Clarke fell into their dynamic with some amount of ease. He’d expected more awkwardness after he found out she had a thing for him and had a minor crisis about it. But he was so grateful that it appeared as if they could move on from it. Even though he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d done something wrong by brushing away the complex emotions that came with the reveal. It didn’t help to dwell on that though, he told himself. All he could do was try to deal with the new normal of his relationship with Clarke since the Murphy shit started. 

There was more to it than just the aversion to blowing up his life and relationship with Clarke. In light of the Sunday two weeks ago, where the guys told him he needed to open up more, he had people he could rant to about the whole friends with benefits development. 

They’d come into Grounders two days ago, both sporting hickeys that he never would've noticed if Clarke’s shirt hadn't been low-cut and Murphy hadn't kept tugging on his collar. The next night, he and Miller had a couple of beers and he stewed about it for almost an hour. He didn’t think he deserved to be pissed, or even had logic behind it. But the feeling was there, all the same. For the first time since he'd found out about them, he could actually express how he was feeling. And the more he was able to express it, the more he realized just how upset the whole thing made him.

That same night they'd hung out, he'd asked Miller if he thought Bellamy was being too much or overly judgemental. The last thing he wanted was for Clarke to think he didn’t respect her choices, however weird they might’ve been. But the other only shook his head, and told him, “Like I said, we're here for you, man.”

That helped him let go of some of the turmoil he was feeling, but he knew it’d come back up. At least, now he had people he could turn to about it. 

Bellamy couldn’t believe it, but he was actually looking forward to the party. Though he knew they weren't really his thing. For a while in undergrad, they had been, when he'd been in a frat those first two years. Eventually, he realized he didn't love getting blackout and falling into bed with a random stranger. Maybe the second part took him a couple more years to figure out, but he got there.

The dressing up part was, even he had to acknowledge, lame, but Echo had rooted around in his closet until she found his soccer uniform. She took one look at it and demanded that he had to wear it. He supposed since she was wearing her volleyball one, it was only fair.

They got out at the address, and he was a little intimidated. This was definitely the kind of place Clarke and her art-scene friends got invited to, and not at all the place he did. It was downtown, but not on the main street. There were numerous people smoking outside, a lot of them wearing sports jerseys, but also a fair amount of punk and goth-looking people and others in just jeans or niche t-shirts from around the time he’d been in high school. The building clearly used to have been used for some kind of manufacturing, and he wondered about the history of it.

When he'd told Clarke he was thinking of researching its past the previous day, she snorted, and said, “For someone with abs like yours, you are such a nerd.” Which, unfortunately, made him forget all about his research.

Raven and Shaw were standing outside. Raven dressed in a pair of low-slung jeans, a striped crop top, and a pair of oversized glasses that had the lenses popped out. Her hair was in pigtails. Shaw was wearing a rock band t-shirt and jeans, as well as a pair of beaten up converse.

“Damn, Echo,” Raven said when she noticed them.

Echo waved a hand, and she said, “It's nothing.” But since he was allowed to check her out, as she was his fiancé and everything, he smirked. She was hot, after all.

Harper and Monty showed up next. Monty in a polo and jeans so tight they looked painful. He'd styled his hair so a large portion of it was on the right, which made his head look slightly misshapen. Harper was wearing what looked like a uniform for a diner.

“I was there more than I was even in school I think,” she said, as an explanation.

Jackson and Miller's Uber pulled up and when they got out, he saw Jackson was in a baseball jersey and jeans. “I couldn't bring myself to wear the pants,” he admitted.

Miller grinned. “Not that they didn't look hot as fuck.” He was in all black. From the beanie stuck onto his head to the long-sleeved t-shirt that had the arms rolled up to his baggy jeans which were positioned exceptionally low. He grumbled out, “I can't believe I used to walk around with my pants like this. I was such a douchebag.”

Lincoln looked relatively the same as he always did. He told them, “When you find a good thing, you don't change it.”

Meanwhile, O practically glowed in a tube top and neon orange flare pants. And a pair of platform flip flops that looked positively dangerous. She checked her reflection in her phone camera, before shaking her head and saying, “I definitely do not miss my rave days.”

Bellamy nodded and grimaced. “Me neither.”

Emori got there next. She was wearing some strange tunic that was clearly made out of organic fibers and a pair of leggings and sandals. She shrugged. “Yeah, before I was a badass, I was kind of a hippy. I blame my brother.”

Murphy showed up alone, which made Bellamy stupidly happy, even though he knew that he and Clarke probably wouldn't end the night that way. Somehow, knowing that they weren’t spending all of their time together made him feel better. Which he knew was probably fucked up, but he couldn’t bring himself to care too much. 

The second Murphy was close enough for them to actually see him, Raven started laughing hysterically. He was wearing low slung jeans like Miller's, but they were blue, maybe even acid wash, and had a chain on one of the pockets. A plain t-shirt and an oversized zip-up hoodie that went down to his knees. Complete with an eyebrow piercing.

“You look,” Raven got out in between laughs as she tried to get a hold of her breathing. “Like early 2000s Avril Lavigne's dumb boyfriend. You know, before she died and was replaced with a body double.”

Murphy rolled his eyes. “And you look like you belong in a Spice Girls music video.” Raven just laughed even harder at that, because, though Bellamy thought hers was one of the better outfits, it was true.

Jasper was bouncing when he got out of his ride. Goggles on his forehead. Jeans that were as tight as Monty's. And god help them all, a Dungeons and Dragons collectors t-shirt.

“Did you even have to root around in your closet for that stuff, or was it on top of the laundry pile?” Octavia asked, more amused and teasing than cruel.

They started in with the jabs then in earnest, asking Bellamy how many passes he'd made at the game and Harper if she could please get them another order of fries. O started re-enacting some of the dance moves that were popular at the clubs she used to go to. Murphy and Raven tore into one another exclusively, it seemed. She called him an emo-wannabe. He called her a less sexy Britney Spears. It went on like that for a while.

“Clarke said it's almost time for her to show us her shame, she'll just be a second,” Harper told them.

Bellamy frowned. “She's already here?”

“She got here early to make sure no one hit on _Maya_ ,” O sang out the name of the girl Clarke was setting Jasper up with.

Jasper blushed. Clarke had been telling them all about the girl that was, if what she said was to actually to be believed, the girl of his dreams, for the past couple of days leading up to the party. Bellamy thought it might’ve been too good to be true. But he was excited for his friend and interested in meeting Maya, too. If Clarke was correct, she seemed cool.

O smirked, and added, “You guys are gonna _die_ when you see her.”

All of them were confused by that, for multiple reasons. 

“You know what she's wearing?” Raven asked.

O nodded excitedly.

“How?” Jasper asked. “No one's seen pictures of Clarke in high school. Not even Bellamy.” 

And though Bellamy knew he meant well, he kind of wished he hadn’t said the last part.

They had begged Clarke to show them pictures from high school though, of course. Made comments that it must've been really terrible if she never even let them get a glimpse of her time before she'd met them. But after a month of goading, she'd finally admitted that she'd done some things she wasn't proud of in high school and that a lot of that behavior, and the person she'd been back then, was because her dad died the summer after her freshman year. No one asked to see pictures or hear stories about high school after that. In recent years, she opened up a bit more. Told them about Anya and coming out and even a couple of stories of a misspent youth. She still hadn’t shown them what she’d dressed like, though. 

“Well…” O trailed off, and Bellamy gaped at her, not believing the line she’d clearly crossed.

“You snooped. Didn't you?” he accused, still shocked that his sister would do such a thing. But really, he couldn’t be that surprised, once it registered.

For the first time he could remember, she was quiet. Chewing on her lip, she glanced around at the rest of their friends. He shook his head in disappointment.

“Okay, yes,” she finally admitted. “But honestly, I can’t be blamed too badly. The not knowing what she was like in high school, it was actually killing me. I did it out of pure desperation.”

Bellamy raised a brow at that, but she went on, “So I did a little light digging into the old family albums and her yearbooks when you and I were at her mom's place for Christmas that one year.” Her face brightened a bit and she grinned. “I won't say anything else but it's amazing.”

Even though O seemed to think otherwise, Bellamy couldn't imagine Clarke being all that embarrassing. Even as a teenager.

Before he could really imagine it, he was distracted by Miller. “Hey,” he swatted at him lightly, almost laughing. “There seems to be a lot of punks running around." 

Bellamy pointedly ignored him. But Jackson grinned, and Monty and Jasper exchanged a look. Harper's face contorted into one of confusion.

“Let's just say our good friend Bellamy here had, an uh, _thing_ for punk girls in high school,” Monty explained.

He glared at the guys, who all looked far too smug. “I told you all that in confidence when I was plastered.”

It slightly worried him that Echo might've been upset since she was clearly _not_ a punk girl or anything even resembling that, but she laughed and started making fun of him along with everyone else.

A group of said punks had just come out of the building and were smoking cigarettes. Echo nudged him and said it was alright if he asked one of them to the prom and not her. This made him roll his eyes and wrap an arm around her waist. 

One of the punks tilted her head a little and shifted her weight, shaking her head as she laughed at something a person beside her said. The movement was so familiar to him it sent a shock through his heart. He really wished he didn't say what he did after that, but before he even thought about the repercussions, he spoke.

“Does that girl, the shortest one, look like Clarke?” His own voice was a mix of disbelief and awe. Which he hoped desperately that no one else picked up on. 

“How can you tell that's Clarke, she isn't even facing us and she's like...fifty feet away,” Harper said, laughing and shooting him an amused look.

Bellamy thought he at least had the ability to look sheepish at that. “I'm probably wrong.” He shrugged. “And there's no way that Clarke was anything resembling punk in high school."

O was staring aggressively at her phone, not saying a word. She typed out a message and looked like she wanted to say something, but before she could, Jasper shrugged.

“There's only one way to find out.” He cupped his hands over his mouth, shouting, “CLARKE GRIFFIN IS THAT YOU?”

And then the punk girl, the one who Jasper shouted at, patted one of the others on the arm. They both smiled and she started walking over to them. Bellamy felt the ground go out from under him once she was close enough so they could see her properly because...Fuck his life, he thought.

Clarke Griffin _had_ been a punk in high school. Or at least, something resembling that. 

She was wearing a mesh long-sleeved top with only a black bra underneath, which he tried not to dwell on for too long. Her jeans were something else. They were black, seemed to be glued to her body, and the only thing that appeared to be holding them together was a row of industrial safety pins on either of the outer seams. On her feet were purple boots bigger than his head. And that was just what she was wearing. 

Her eyes were ringed with so many layers of kohl eyeliner that they seemed to shine, even outside at ten at night. Her lips were painted a grayish color, almost black, but not quite. She'd dyed her hair, he noticed. Just the tips, though. A bright pink that swirled around her curls. A row of earrings of various shapes and designs went all the way up both ears, and she had a septum piercing he'd never seen before.

She flushed as she approached and looked away from him. He'd been staring at her for too long, he knew it. While he'd been lost in her attire and taking it all in, and also swallowing down his shock (and attraction—not that he was ready to admit that part), everyone else had already reacted. A mix of whistles and “oh fuck,” and “who knew?” and “I did!”

“Show them the best part!” O shouted. Though it sounded like Bellamy was hearing it from inside a fishbowl. Her voice distorted and far away.

Clarke rolled her eyes, but everyone stared at her expectantly. Finally, she flipped O off and stuck out her tongue. It was pierced. That little silver stud mocked him, and would probably continue to do so all night, he figured. He truly thought he was going to die. Or at the very least, pass out. 

And then Murphy walked over to her, smirking. He cupped her face in his hands and brought her in for a searing kiss. Which, to Bellamy’s credit, he did not turn away from. But this meant he saw the moment when she let him stick his tongue down her throat. When they pulled away, her lipstick was a little bit smudged, but she made no move to fix it.

“Come on, Skater Boy,” she said, yanking Murphy by the shirt in the direction of the warehouse. “We gotta get Jasper laid before he actually combusts.”

He wasn’t going to be the only one that night, Bellamy thought.

Clarke did look over her shoulder at him though and rolled her eyes. She scrunched up her nose and mouthed: _that bad?_

He wasn’t sure he could even form a coherent thought. But somehow he managed to reply: _no more than usual._

This elicited a laugh, which made him feel considerably better. It wasn't until they entered the building that he realized somewhere along the way he'd dropped his arm from Echo's waist.

* * *

Murphy was considering ending it all, and it was because of Raven Reyes' ass. Specifically, her ass in those jeans. So, he had practically thrown himself at Clarke, to make sure no one noticed how hard he was trying to not look at her. He thought it worked pretty well, to both of their credit. 

Clarke, who had said to Echo and Bellamy as they neared the warehouse, “You two look like you were made for each other in all your jock glory,” didn't seem to consider wanting to protest it.

When she'd kissed him that first time in Grounders weeks ago, he'd been pretty damn shocked. He'd figured she'd want to keep whatever they were doing as far away from Bellamy's eyes as possible. But he'd started to notice how every touch, every casual exchange between Echo and Bellamy was carefully noted by her. It took him a while to even realize what she was doing since she looked at Bellamy a lot regardless of whether or not Echo was around. But, eventually, he managed to figure it out.

“You trying to make him jealous?” he'd asked, kind of jokingly, earlier that week after she put on a low-cut top before they went to Grounders. One that clearly showed off the hickey he'd given her.

She'd stiffened, and seemed to be contemplating the best reply.

“It's okay if you are,” he clarified. “Or if you just wanna do it because you know it messes with him on some level, even if it's not how you want.” 

When she didn't say anything, and just kept staring at herself in the mirror, biting her lip a bit, he'd admitted, “I want the same thing, you know? Make Raven see what she can't have.” He'd swallowed and looked away from her. “I know it's probably a million different kinds of pathetic, and doesn't even have an impact on her, but…” He'd shrugged.

She'd turned around and faced him. “I'm down if you are,” she'd said. 

He’d raised a brow. “Since when am I not down for your conniving plans, Griffin?”

She'd smirked, and that night in their booth, he made sure Bellamy and Raven noticed the hickey she'd given him, too.

And when he’d just kissed her in front of everyone outside the warehouse, it hadn't really been about her, or about him. As awful and sad as it was, it was about _them_.

It was pretty dark inside, which he expected. A girl that Clarke dated would fucking love strobe lights and blaring dance hall music. And no, it was not the art that was certain EDM that he had tried in vain to educate her on. Instead, it was all of the hits from during or around his high school years. He'd heard about these parties Anya threw from Clarke, but nothing prepared him for the real thing.

For one, a lot of people were dressed like Clarke, which wasn't a surprise, since her hometown was only an hour away. Anya's parties weren't something one missed if they could help it. There were girls and guys in actual cages dancing on platforms. Clad in what looked a lot like leather. Servers dished out drinks, dressed in black leotards and all of them with a giant mohawk wig, each in a different neon color so you could spot them easily. Murphy was fairly certain there were bubble or foam dispensers of some kind somewhere, but he hadn't seen it yet. As they made their way to the bar, which was in the middle of the space and adorned with neon purple and blue lights around the bartop and on the floor, he spotted no less than five smoke machines.

Their friends were looking around with amazement, confusion, and fear. Harper bit her lip, smoothing down a crease in her uniform. Octavia was the only one unaffected, the lights reflecting off of her neon pants.

“I think we're a little out of our element here, Clarke,” Bellamy managed.

She grinned wickedly at that, which Murphy saw turned the other guy's ears the slightest bit pink, and she said, “Good. It's about time we get you all out of your comfort zones.”

Turning to the bar, after assuring them that everything was free, (how fucking rich was Anya, he wanted to know) she ordered a round of double tequila shots.

They all clinked their glasses together and drained them. Murphy felt a little better after the second round. A little less like a complete nerd surrounded by a bunch of rich artists who probably thought Clarke was a fool for bringing them all there.

“I'm gonna go get Maya, alright?” she asked him, and he nodded.

Before she left them though, she yanked him into another kiss, which she ended by biting his lip and disappearing into the crowd. He turned just in time to see Raven quickly look away. Deciding not to let it get to him, neither the anxiety nor the pride, he ordered a Jack and coke. The rest of them followed his lead, placing various orders, some more complex, like Harper's Sex on the Beach, and others as simple as you could get, like Emori, who got more tequila.

When Clarke re-appeared, she was alone.

“Please don't tell me she left, or she's making out with some scary punk dude,” Jasper practically whined.

Clarke laughed. “Don’t worry, she's coming. I had Anya stall her for a moment so we can all give you a pep talk. You know, work out the kinks in your moves.”

“Brilliant,” Jasper said and looked around at everyone. He then proceeded to get a panicked look on his face. “Oh my god you guys, you better start with the pepping and the talking because I think I might pass out.”

Bellamy clapped him on the shoulder. “Relax man, you got this. Just be yourself.”

Echo stared at him straight in the eye. “Emori and I have been preparing you all week. You're ready.” Even Murphy thought that it was hard to argue with her resolve.

Miller got him another shot and handed it to Raven who thrust it into Jasper’s hand. “Drink this,” she said, which he did.

Octavia smiled and nodded aggressively. Hell, even Lincoln gave him a thumbs up.

Murphy shrugged. “Plus, Clarke’s been telling us that she's a complete nerd, so how scary can she really be?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Don't be an ass. Besides, I said she was into nerdy things, not that she was a nerd.”

“There's a difference?” Harper frowned.

Monty nodded gravely at her. 

Harper added before Jasper could start to freak out again, “It'll be fine.”

“There they are.” Clarke inclined her head towards where two women had emerged through the crowd.

They both had dark hair, but the taller one was dressed in a more elaborate, and leathery, version of what Clarke was wearing. If Murphy was being honest, she looked terrifying. As if she hadn't smiled in years. Definitely Clarke's type, so he figured that had to be Anya. The second he took in the second woman’s appearance, he couldn't help it, he burst out laughing.

“Clarke got me a cheerleader!” Jasper exclaimed. Murphy couldn't tell which side of him was winning: the pulsating excitement or utter terror.

Clarke looked up at Jasper and smirked. “You’re welcome.”

It was true, the shorter woman, Maya, was in a stereotypical cheerleader outfit. It looked legit too, not the kind that you bought at a costume store. It was a cropped white shirt that stopped right before the shoulders and had blue stitching with the letter 'R', which he assumed was the capital letter of her high school. Her skirt was pleated and shamefully short, and there was a bit of exposed midriff. Her hair was in a ponytail tied off with a blue ribbon. Murphy gave Clarke a look, after all, this was _Jasper_ , but she jutted out her chin. All confidence.

“Maya, Anya, over here!” Clarke called to them, loud enough with the music blasting. The two women made their way over to their spot by the bar.

“Clarke,” Anya greeted. “You look great." She smirked. "Damn, it feels like we're back in detention all over again."

“Detention?” Bellamy asked. Murphy saw that something had sparked in his eyes besides the strobe lights.

Clarke raised her brows and responded, “I, uh, had a bit of a reputation.”

Anya snorted at that, and she shot her a look.

Murphy closed the distance between him and Anya, and said, “I would _love_ to hear about what you and Clarke got up to in high school.”

Anya looked down at Clarke. “So this is the guy your fucking?” 

Rolling her eyes, she nodded. “Unfortunately.”

Murphy feigned insult. “I am right here.”

“I know,” she deadpanned.

Anya glanced between Maya and Jasper. Murphy wanted to make a snide comment about how obvious everyone was being. Clarke elbowed him before he could and he bit back what he wanted to say.

“Well, one of my favorite new artists just arrived, so I should go say hi, but you have fun, alright?” Anya eyed Murphy and then grinned at Clarke. “And let me know if you get bored with this one, and want someone a little more adventurous.”

Clarke laughed, and the other woman disappeared into the crowd. She took a breath. “Anyway, Maya,” she gestured to the group. “I've already told you about everyone.”

They all groaned at that. Telling her that that really wasn’t fair.

“Only good things,” Maya said, smiling. Her eyes flashed over to Jasper for a second.

Jasper didn’t look like he was breathing. Luckily, it seemed this girl was not as inept as he was, and she took the first step. She noticed his t-shirt, and her whole body seemed to react.

Murphy exchanged a glance with Monty, who looked disappointed. Leave it to Jasper to screw up a set-up without even uttering a word. Of course, he should've known better than to doubt Clarke.

“Oh my god, you played D&D?” she asked. “My friends thought I was the biggest dork ever in high school for loving it so much. I mean, once I missed a cheer tournament because my group and I had been planning this amazing campaign for months, and,” she waved a hand, “it was a complete disaster.”

Jasper finally regained his ability to speak, to everyone's surprise. He adjusted his goggles, and said, “Yeah, I played. I kinda still do actually.”

Murphy thought that would have been the end, but he clearly misinterpreted the situation, because Maya's whole face lit up.

“You do? Me too! I mean, it's the only thing I really keep up with from those days. I don't even run five miles a day anymore. Only three.” At least that part tracked. He wondered when was the last time Jasper ran anywhere, and in a video game didn't count.

Maya went on, “But they would have to pry D&D from my cold, dead hands before I gave it up.”

Okay, so maybe it wasn't as hopeless as he thought. It felt a little strange, that they were all standing around, witnessing this exchange, but it was kind of a miracle.

Then a Lady Gaga song came on, one that Jasper happened to be obsessed with to that day and had a habit of playing on the piece of shit jukebox at Grounders after he snuck his fifth drink when they weren't looking.

Clarke intervened again, she really was quite good at this, “Maya, don't you love this song?”

The other woman blushed and admitted, “Yeah...I do.”

Clarke looked pointedly at Jasper, who, thankfully, got the hint.

“No shit, me too.” After a moment, he asked, “You wanna dance?”

“I'd love to,” Maya said, nodding. Again, she made the first move, and grabbed his hand, pulling him out towards the makeshift dance floor. Jasper glanced over his shoulder, a look of pure glee on his face.

“Perhaps you lack subtlety, but you get the job done,” Murphy told Clarke.

“Now that I have, how about we dance too?” she asked, looping her arms around his waist.

“Or…” he trailed off.

“We _are not_ hooking up in one of the bathrooms here,” she said.

He didn't see it, but he felt everyone doing their best to ignore the exchange, all while pretending not to listen to every word. Even while busying themselves with drinks or other conversations, he could tell they were paying attention to the two of them. They were, of course, still their friends.

“Come on,” he whined, a little petulant. “I wanna see what that tongue piercing can do.”

Was it just his imagination, or did Bellamy and Raven both actually flinch at that?

He didn't have time to analyze the situation, because Clarke said, “But Anya might've told me there are old rooms where the supervisors used to sleep.” She shrugged innocently. “And that she stocked them with air mattresses in case anyone needed to crash here.”

“Are you asking me to have creepy sex in a warehouse that is probably full of ghosts?”

Chewing on her lip, she replied, “Maybe?”

He shook his head in amazement, and told her, “Lead the way.”

She let her arms drop from his waist so she could grab his hand. “We'll be back in twenty minutes," she shouted over the music.

No one had the balls to say anything back.

That didn't stop him from grinning, and adding, “Better make it at least half an hour.”

And yeah, he did wink at the group before he and Clarke took off. Though he knew in reality, it was only for Raven and Bellamy. Sue him, he was a petty bitch.

* * *

Bellamy stared after Clarke and Murphy for just a moment too long, and Raven definitely noticed but hoped no one else did.

Before Echo could call attention to it or even tell what was going on, though really, Raven wondered how she hadn't by now, she said, “Well, I need a shower.” 

Mostly because it was the kind of thing she was supposed to be feeling at that moment.

She was not, _was not_ , supposed to be feeling...Whatever the fuck this was. Octavia feigned a shiver of disgust, and Harper drained the last of her drink. Bellamy turned around towards the bar and ordered more shots for everyone. Monty's eyes went a little wide but he didn't say anything.

Echo did, though. “Maybe you wanna slow down?”

He shook his head. “It’ll be fine. It's a party.” 

Raven was shocked at how he kept his voice light, casual. For a second, she almost believed it. 

“Let's have a little fun,” he added.

Echo shrugged and accepted the shot he'd handed her as he put an arm around her. Raven was still distracted by thoughts of Murphy and Clarke. The looks on their faces and the way they’d been laughing as they practically strutted off towards the stairs. 

“You gonna pout all night Raven, or are you gonna take a shot with me?” Bellamy asked. 

She was not pouting, okay? She was just fine. Those two could do whatever they wanted. Hell if she cared. Still, she didn’t think she wanted yet another shot. But she knew better than to try and argue with Bellamy.

“You're on, Blake,” she said, and held up her glass and clinked it against Echo's and Bellamy's. “To whatever the hell this night turns out to be.”

As soon as they were done with those, Raven and Bellamy ordered more. Echo raised a brow but smiled a little as she untangled herself from him. “You guys have fun, but be safe, alright? Emori and I are gonna go kick a bunch of former football players' asses at beer pong.”

Bellamy gave her a quick kiss, and then Emori and Echo went sauntering over to where there were tables set up for games. Vaguely, Raven registered a chorus of jeers from said football players, but she was already feeling too buzzed to care. She moved close enough to him that the rest of them wouldn't hear the two of them over the music.

“I saw your face,” Raven said as they slammed down their glasses from yet another pair of shots. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied.

She snorted. “Of course, you don't.”

“I saw yours,” he challenged, ordering more drinks. 

“It's not like that,” she insisted.

He gave her this look as if to say, _Y_ _eah, fucking right_.

“Whatever,” Raven waved a hand and drank. Then she nodded towards one of the bartenders. “Let's do another shot.”

Bellamy grinned. “That's the spirit,” he said.

They got another round. And another. And another. And another. Anything to chase away the feeling that she hated what Murphy and Clarke were doing. That she might be starting to figure out why that was. But she had to be wrong. It was impossible. But that didn’t stop her from drinking even more, letting Bellamy get them more drinks even as she knew they shouldn’t. 

It was gonna be a long night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading ❤︎
> 
> find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)


	7. Girl All the Bad Guys Want (Reprise)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, lovelies!! I apologize for the short hiatus, but I went to the mountains on vacation and there really wasn't enough wifi for me to update. but I am back now and will hopefully get back to schedule. 
> 
> this one continues the party from the previous chapter and results in a bit more drama. hope you enjoy it!!
> 
> thank you so much for the amazing response this fic has received. it never fails to make me smile or be so incredibly grateful for all of you who leave any kind of feedback. 
> 
> *song title is from 'Girl All the Bad Guys Want' by Bowling of Soup once again
> 
> take care of yourself and each other. sending love 💖💜💙

Raven could hold her liquor, alright? She could handle the best of the tech bros at her job and had no problem downing shot after shot while still staying upright. Still, she was starting to wonder if alcohol didn't have any kind of effect on Bellamy. She'd lost count of the number of drinks they'd shared somewhere around six. She'd considered backing out then, but couldn’t help that notice how Clarke and Murphy still weren't back, so she'd agreed to one more round. After that, things got a little fuzzy.

Perhaps in a move to save them all, Harper suggested the rest of them go and join the others to dance. Raven looked around, realizing that somewhere in the night Jackson and Miller had started dancing, as had Octavia and Lincoln. Echo and Emori had earned a reputation by the beer pong tables and were in the middle of what appeared to be a spur of the moment tournament. Only Harper and Monty had stayed with them. Oh, and Shaw. He was still there, too. Which she should’ve felt awful about, but the alcohol prevented the feeling.

Raven was gonna shoot Harper down as delicately as she could. Her heart just wasn't in it. In fact, she was fairly certain her heart was somewhere on the upper floor of the warehouse, fooling around on an air mattress. Before she could though, Bellamy actually made something that sounded vaguely like a, ‘whoooo,’ and draped an arm over both Harper and Monty as they made their way over to the rest of their friends. She started to shake her head, but Shaw grinned and tugged her behind him along with their friends.

“It'll be fun,” he assured her.

She tried not to grimace too much. And really, he had a point. This was a party. She was supposed to be dancing with her hot and smart and amazing boyfriend. Not moping just because Murphy was hooking up with Clarke upstairs.

When the others spotted them, Octavia enveloped her in a hug and whispered in her ear, “Dude, don't tell anyone but Lincoln and I are definitely gonna pull a Clurphy later on.”

Raven laughed, genuinely, hugging the girl back as she added, “Make sure to disinfect that air mattress first though. You don't know which room they used.”

Octavia simply shrugged and started once more with the dance moves that made her look as if she didn't have any bones. Raven supposed she had years of practice. Maybe not at a party quite like this, but certainly ones like it.

She was planning an escape when Bellamy grabbed both of her arms and tugged them. Reluctantly, she swayed her hips. She was hoping he'd figure out that it was fruitless, when he shouted, “I know that look Raven and no one way in hell are you bailing, so just admit defeat now!”

She turned to look at Shaw, who shrugged. He wasn't a bad dancer, quite a good one, really. Certainly better than Murphy. So, she nodded at Bellamy, and he released her so she could place her arms around Shaw's neck.

Raven could be humble, alright? But she knew she was a kick-ass dancer. Even with her brace, she could still move her hips in a way that made most guys' knees shake without even breaking a sweat. Though she always hesitated jumping into it, she _liked_ dancing.

She figured it was mostly because before she realized she was meant for greatness as an engineer, she'd take ballet and other forms of dance for years, not that anyone knew about that. Except for Murphy, who'd gotten it out of her one night after a grueling episode of _Sons of Anarchy_ when one of his favorite characters died. Really, she'd told him about it because she wanted to make him laugh. It did. That didn't mean that he didn't tease her about it all the time, though she noted it was only when they were alone or no one else could hear.

The copious amounts of alcohol mixed with her definitely _not_ being jealous about Murphy led her to be a little wilder with the moves than she normally allowed. Certainly, Shaw wasn't complaining though. In fact, he'd never looked at her more thrilled. Or with more heat.

She didn't notice Echo and Emori join them, but if she thought her and Shaw were being scandalous, it was nothing compared to what Bellamy was doing to Echo.

Clarke and Murphy might've been the ones taking off their clothes upstairs, but they were looking at each other as if they just had. Or were about to.

Octavia and her caught one another's eye and Raven rolled hers, but after a moment she was no longer paying Raven any attention because she was looking over at something back near the bar. It wasn't easy to make out, with all the people and the lights, but she could see that it was them after a moment. Clarke and Murphy. Raven was too far away to read their facial expressions but she could see their body language. Her friends could be deceptive when they wanted to, could easily conceal their emotions, unlike herself, but it appeared they weren't even trying.

Murphy had his arms crossed over his chest, and though she was too far away to see it, she knew that the vein in his forehead was probably popping out. Clarke's back was straight, her shoulders back, her jaw set.

Who the fuck were they to judge _them_? After all, they were the ones that had just gone upstairs to hookup on a blow-up mattress at this damn party. _Assholes_ , she thought. Then the crowd shifted, so she had a better view of them, and they had one of her and the others. Without even really thinking about it, she pulled Shaw down and slammed her lips against his. He reciprocated immediately, and she opened her mouth a moment after he opened his. She didn't know how long they kissed, or how much Murphy saw, and she told herself she didn't care.

The only bad part was that her eyes were closed, and she couldn't see what it did to Clarke and Murphy.

* * *

Clarke let out a shaky breath. She was out in the back of the warehouse that looked out onto an alley, smoking a cigarette. Which she only did these days when she felt like she was going to fall apart. She was sitting on a stack of wooden pallets, and she kicked her right leg back and forth. Exhaling, she wondered why she hadn't cried yet. The whole reason she'd come out there was that she was sure she was going to, but so far, nothing.

She thought she'd been getting better, that she might've actually been getting over Bellamy. Or, at least, over him getting married. But then she and Murphy had come back down to the bar, finding none of their friends there, and she'd seen him with Echo.

They were practically having sex, Murphy had spat. Not that the two of them could really judge, of course. She’d pointed this out, but his attention was so trained on Raven and Shaw, she didn’t think he heard her. 

They looked good together. Matching each other's movements with ease and looking at one another as if no one else existed. It was wrong that she had thought about her and Bellamy like that, but the moment she saw them together, it came crashing down around her. That was never going to be her. It was never going to be the two of them. She'd known this before, had told herself it a thousand times. Only accepting it in theory. But seeing it was a whole different thing.

Murphy didn't look much better than she felt, but Jackson and Miller came back over to the bar and ordered another round, which he quickly got in on. They'd invited Clarke too, but she told them she was getting dizzy and needed some air. Murphy made a joke about wearing her out, which she was actually grateful for. She didn't feel like drowning her sorrows in booze at the moment.

How could she have been so stupid as to think that a little casual sex and lame attempts to make him jealous would ever make anything better? Would ever release her from the torture that was loving Bellamy?

When she heard the door open, she said without looking over her shoulder, “Murphy, go bother someone else, alright?”

“Not Murphy,” Bellamy said, raising his hands in mock defense as he flashed her a sheepish grin. She hated how it made her heart stutter. “Hope that's okay.”

“Yeah, that's, uh, that's more than okay,” she replied because she _was_ that pathetic.

For a moment, he turned serious. His expression stony, maybe even angry. He asked, “He do something to you that I need to kick his ass for?”

She scoffed and shook her head. “No more than usual.” When he didn't seem convinced, she said, “Really, it's nothing.”

He seemed to want to ask more, but she gave him a look and he accepted that she didn't want to talk about it. Instead, he jumped up onto the stack of pallets and sat beside her. For a moment neither one of them said anything.

When he did, it wasn't exactly what she'd imagined.

“Do you think you would've noticed me in high school?”

She laughed, shaking her head at the absurdity of the question. “Do you mean would I have been obsessed with you like every other person in the school?”

He sputtered at that. “People weren't obsessed with me.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can hardly believe that,” she teased him. “I mean, that uniform says it all.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, he replied, “I was still as much of a nerd as I am now in high school, Clarke.”

“Maybe,” she mused. “But you were a nerd that probably had half the school hitting on him.”

He didn't have a response to that, which she took as a win.

After a moment, he cleared his throat, “I didn't mean would you have been attracted to me.” His voice sounded tight and a little awkward. She didn’t know what to do with it, other than having the urge to make him feel better. She kept quiet as he went on, “I meant...I don't know, would you have even acknowledged my existence?” His face was so open, it surprised her.

She snorted, continuing with keeping things as light as possible. “I think it would've been pretty hard to ignore.”

“From someone like you? Doubt it.” He sounded so sure, she didn't know how to argue how wrong he was.

“Now, me you couldn't have helped but notice,” she gestured to herself. “As a complete freak, of course.”

He burst out laughing at that, which made her brow furrow.

“I wouldn't have thought you were a freak, trust me,” he told her. 

“Then what would you have thought of me?” she challenged. 

He gulped, which only made her feel even more confused about the whole conversation. 

“I'll answer when you do,” he finally said.

She worked her jaw and knew she would regret this, but he did seem kind of out of it, so, she thought: _F_ _uck it_.

“I would've thought you were arrogant, of course.” He laughed again at that. “Probably a little too smart and good-looking for your own good.” 

She tapped on her chin, pretending to be thinking over each word carefully. “Definitely not the kind of person that would help me out if my car broke down on the side of the road, and really, you should've seen the piece of shit I insisted on driving back then, but I don't know…” She shrugged. “I think you would've shown me a glimmer of something real eventually and would've grown on me. Like a very nice fungus. Now, your turn.”

He blinked a couple of times before he replied, “I would've been really intimidated by you.” 

She cackled, not believing it for a second. But he insisted, grinning. “I would've! You were so, I don't know, not trying to be anything that someone else wanted you to be. Still are, really.” 

That made her have to swallow down a flurry of feelings she didn’t want to have to confront. He seemed to not notice and gestured a little with his hands as he went on. “And I know you said you weren't proud of the person that you were back then, but I think I would've liked you, the same as I do now.” He swallowed, and his tone was more joking when he said, “Hell, you could've snuck me cigarettes out by the quad, so you know, maybe even more.”

He was grinning down at her and she shook her head, but she couldn't look away.

Fuck, she was definitely looking at him for way too long. She was about to make a joke about it when he admitted, “I won't lie to you, I'm really fucking drunk right now.”

She couldn't help it, she laughed. At least it broke their staring contest though. Still, a part of her felt just a little bit devastated that his words had been the result of too much tequila and probably weren't the truth.

Bumping her shoulder against his arm, she asked, “How drunk are we talking?”

He rolled his eyes. “Probably getting to the stage where I will only remember about fifty percent of this night.”

“Ah,” she said. “Well, I'm glad you're having fun.” 

With Echo, she thought but didn't say. 

“I would've had more fun if you'd been there more,” he said, blowing out a breath and as if it wasn’t something that they were sort of avoiding discussing. 

Clarke had no idea what to say to that.

Luckily she didn't have to, because he kept talking. “You know,” he inclined his head towards the cigarette in her hand, which she'd completely forgotten about. “My friend who made me quit those told me they're cancer sticks, and shouldn't even exist.”

Taking a drag from it, she said around the smoke, “Your friend sounds a little uptight.”

“Nah,” he replied. “She just worries about me.” He coughed. “She worries about all of her friends, I mean.”

A silence settled between them and she didn’t know what to make of it. Eventually, she found something to say. Though it was dancing on a line the two of them usually chose to ignore.

“I'm sorry me and Murphy disappeared for a while,” she said.

He stiffened a little, but so slightly she barely noticed. She figured it could've been anything. Like a breeze or something. It was the summer, but whatever. There were breezes in summer.

He cleared his throat. “You guys had fun, though.”

It wasn't a question but she nodded regardless.

“That's good.” He swallowed audibly, and she looked over at him. His eyes were swimming with something she wasn’t sure she’d seen much before. “I'm happy that you're having fun.”

“Bellamy,” she started to say, wanting to give him an out for this topic, but he cut her off.

“I think it's weird, obviously,” he said, a little dramatic. She laughed at that, she couldn't stop herself. “And I am happy that you're happy.” Bellamy took a breath. “But I do have to admit...I miss you a little."

She frowned, not being able to imagine why he’d miss her when they still hung out all the time. “Why? It's not like I've gone anywhere. Hell," she added, “We still live together, don't we?”

He shook his head. “But it's different.”

Clarke shouldn’t have said anything. Should’ve kept her mouth shut. Instead, she went for it. 

“It was always gonna be different after you asked Echo to marry you.” _Stupid_ , she told herself. She was actually the stupidest person in the world.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “Just not this different.”

She cleared her throat. There were a million things she wanted to say to that. Confessions. Words that laid on the tip of her tongue for years. In the end, though, she dismissed them. She went with what was easy. 

Biting her lip, she told him, “Harper told me we'll find a new normal.”

Bellamy smiled a little at that. “We should listen to Harper more.”

At that, she figured they were done talking, so she dropped the cigarette on the ground and jumped off the pallet. She stubbed the butt out with her boot. As she was moving towards the door, he reached out and grabbed her arm. She felt his thumb rubbing her skin through the mesh of her top. Looking up at him, she swallowed, and she knew her bottom lip trembled a little. He didn't say anything, just stared at her in a way he never really had before.

“You really _are_ that drunk,” she said.

It was meant to be in a teasing tone, but her voice was barely above a whisper.

“I can't lose you,” he said, his eyes wide and serious.

Again, the words she wanted to say built up in her throat. It’d be so easy to say them. _Bellamy, I love you. I think I’ve always loved you. I know it’s not right, but I do. And I’m not sure I will ever be able to stop._

Clarke knew she couldn’t say any of that though, so she reached out and rubbed his arm with as much comfort as she could muster. 

“You won't. I promise, okay?” She smiled softly, tentative. “I know I've...I know I've bailed in the past when shit got hard, but I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. You're gonna be stuck with my dumbass for a long time.”

The tension she hadn't even noticed Bellamy had been holding in his shoulders relaxed a little. “Now, come on, everyone's probably wondering where we are, and god knows it's only a matter of time before they get into trouble without us around.”

He grinned. “Oh, I can only imagine.” She turned to go back inside once he got down from the wooden pallets but he stopped her. “And I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, either, you know that right?”

Clarke was proud she was able to nod in response.

* * *

Murphy really hadn’t lied when he'd told everyone he was getting belligerent in the group text. He liked to fulfill his promises. Maybe this one had to do exclusively with the fact that Raven and the dick she'd brought with her were still making out on the dancefloor, but whatever. At least his word was good. It was usually the only good thing about him sometimes.

Jackson and Miller were getting a little bit worried though, he could tell.

“Relax, you guys,” he told them after they exchanged yet another look while he continued to drink. “I've been drunker than this before. Remember?”

Jackson actually paled a little at the memory.

Miller got out, looking queasy, “Yeah, and if you recall, Bellamy and Clarke had to buy a new couch.”

“Which they _love_ ,” Murphy said. “So, really, I did them a favor.”

They looked at one another again, and he gestured with his glass. “No, no, no. None of that judgemental bullshit here. Clarke brought us all to this scary-ass place so that we could have a good time. That includes you, old men.”

At being called an 'old man' Jackson crossed his arms, but Miller grabbed another round off of a passing server's tray, wanting to prove his youth, probably. 

The rest of them came over to one of the circular leather couches that had been placed into corners of the warehouse for the party. Anya had come up to them at some point and told them they'd been a bitch to get, but she didn't settle for anything less than amazing. And, he thought, they probably believed she could kill them and hide the bodies if she didn't get what you wanted.

“Where are Lincoln and Octavia?” Miller asked.

Harper giggled. It was good to know he wasn't the only one drunk out of his mind.

Monty and Jasper, whose arm was around a grinning Maya's shoulders, looked at one another and burst out laughing.

“Who can say?” Emori asked, plopping down onto the couch and grinning wickedly.

Echo snorted at that, and then picked up one of the drinks and took a sip. “Not bad,” she said. “Though I have no clue what the hell is in this.” She looked around for a second, her brow furrowing. “Has anyone seen Bellamy?”

Murphy had seen him alright. Following Clarke through the door to the back of the warehouse. Not that he was gonna offer that information up. So, he just shrugged.

“Last time I saw him, you and him were, _you know_ ,” he told her, winking.

Echo smirked, which made him vaguely pissed off on Clarke's behalf. He was glad she wasn't there to witness _that_.

“There they are,” Miller said, nodding towards the crowd.

They emerged from the groups of people, and fucking hell. Murphy made a mental note to talk to Clarke about being so goddamn obvious. She was grinning up at Bellamy like he hung the damn moon and he was laughing at something she'd said. He had his arm slung around her shoulders, which Murphy figured they excused due to the fact that the dude _was_ stumbling a little.

Clarke looked over at all of them and shouted, “Can we get some water for this one?” Jackson acted quickly as if he’d been waiting for the directive, and brought over not one, but enough water bottles for everyone.

“Those are horrible for the environment,” Bellamy protested as Clarke dropped him next to Echo, who rubbed his arm, but was smiling a little at the ridiculousness of her fiancé.

Clarke snorted and pushed the water bottle into his hand.

“The Earth is dying,” he went on.

“Yeah,” Murphy snorted. “And you will too if you don't drink up.”

Bellamy shot him a glare but looked back at Clarke, who raised a single brow, and he did as he was asked.

“We all should drink water. A lot of it,” Jackson told them.

They made a couple of jeers at him for being such a worrywart, but since they didn't want to end up puking all over Anya's leather couches, or with hangovers that would have them in bed for days, they did as they were told. When they finished their first round of water, he got them a second. This one even Murphy didn't protest.

“Raven too,” Bellamy told them once he’d sobered up a bit. “We did shots. Many, many shots.”

“I'll go get her,” Harper offered, but Murphy extended a hand.

“I'll do it.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he had already started walking towards the dancefloor.

Raven and Whatshisface were still glued together at the mouth and didn't take it too kindly when he not-so-accidentally shoved Shaw a little harder than necessary.

The dude glared at him, but Murphy put up his hands in surrender. “My bad—was just trying to get your attention.”

Shaw didn't reply, but also no longer looked like he was gonna punch Murphy in the face, so that was a win.

Without looking at Raven, he told Shaw, “Bellamy says they drank a shit ton earlier. We're all doing a couple of rounds of water, and she should get in on that.”

“I'M FINE!” Raven shouted over the music, her arm around Shaw's waist. “Aren't I fine?” She turned to her dumbass boyfriend for confirmation, like she even needed it.

“You most certainly are,” he said. Which, _gross_ and _cheesy_ , but whatever. He couldn’t show that he gave a damn. Thankfully, Shaw continued, “But Murphy might actually have a point. You and Bellamy were going pretty hard earlier. It might be a good idea to take a break.”

Murphy couldn't help it, he smirked at her.

Raven rolled her eyes, but said, “Okay.” And then she started marching off in the wrong direction with as much confidence as an insanely drunk Raven Reyes could have, which was a lot. This was not adorable. At all.

Shaw got her turned around though, and they made her drink two and a half water bottles before they even let her stand up again.

Once they were all burgeoning on sober once more, Jackson relented and let them get another round from one of the servers. Clarke was pulled away by Anya, who said she wanted to introduce her to some of her friends from New York, and she agreed but made Bellamy come with her. Maya pulled Jasper out onto the dance floor once more, followed by Harper and Monty and Jackson and Miller. Some guy in a football jersey said something about kicking Echo and Emori's ass, and they immediately got up and went to reclaim their dignity.

Which left Murphy and Raven and fucking Shaw. He wasn't really paying attention to what Shaw was saying, but something he said made her laugh. Murphy knew it was pathetic before he even did it, but he was still a little drunk and she was really fucking pretty when she laughed. So, he tugged on one of her pigtails. Like an actual five-year-old.

That got her attention away from Shaw. So he couldn’t even be too annoyed with himself for doing it. It was even better when she glared at him, but playfully enough. It also got them tearing into one another once more. It didn't matter that Shaw was watching them, in fact, that part of it kind of made his night.

“Does that eyebrow ring pick up cable, or is it just like those three standard channels?” she asked, a lazy grin on her face.

He flicked her glasses. “You borrow those from Barb from _Stranger Things_?”

She pointed a finger at him accusingly. “Barb deserved better, and you know it.”

“Don't I,” he agreed.

“So, you finally admitting that you cried when we found out she was dead, and that it wasn't just allergies?”

Murphy rolled his eyes. “Maybe.”

She snapped her fingers. “Ha! I win!”

“You didn't win anything,” he protested. “I admitted to it.”

“I still win,” Raven replied.

He screwed up his face, which made her grin even more. "How?" he asked. 

“Because,” she was all smug, and goddammit if he didn’t completely eat it up. “You admitted to having an actual human emotion.”

He started laughing at that, and so did she. 

Of course, Shaw had to ruin it. “Let's go upstairs,” he said to her.

Raven turned to look at him as if she just remembered he was there. “Why?”

He gave her this totally smarmy look that left nothing to the imagination and Murphy almost gagged.

“Oh,” she said, and grinned, giggling a little.

Turning to Murphy, she told him, “Hate to stop teasing you about actually feeling things, but we're gonna pop upstairs for a bit.”

“By all means,” he said, but even he could hear how cold it sounded, how quickly his tone had changed. If only he could tell her _why_. But that would hardly do anyone any good. “Have fun.”

“I will,” she said, defiant as ever. He didn’t expect anything less. 

Shaw shot him this look over his shoulder as Raven stood up and pulled them towards the stairs but he didn’t give a shit. Maybe he’d been a bit too obvious tonight, too. Whatever though. Fuck that dude. Murphy felt petulant, and a little put-out, and yeah, fucking lonely. But he knew one thing that would make him feel better. So, he drained the last of a Jack and Coke and went to find Clarke and Bellamy.

* * *

Bellamy was trying to reign in his awe of Clarke, but it was really damn hard when she managed to interact with famous artists from New York like they were all people from her kindergarten class.

Even in her outfit for the night, which he was _definitely_ still not over, she managed to have a certain grace and ease talking to people she'd never even met before. The only bit that gave him any satisfaction was that he knew she hated it, always had. Especially when it'd been for her mom, and she'd carted Clarke out at campaign events and dinner parties like she was some kind of extension of her staff. When they finished talking to an artist that exclusively used their own body to paint their canvases, she rolled her eyes at him.

Anya had been with them for that last conversation, and Clarke turned to her. 

“Anya, this is really great, and you know how grateful I am for the new connections, but…” She bit her lip as she trailed off. 

Anya nodded with more sympathy than Bellamy thought possible. “I know it's not your thing, but you did really well. Still, feel free to escape while you can.”

Clarke relaxed at that and grabbed his hand in hers and dove into the throng of people before someone else could demand her attention. He tried to pretend he was breathless only because of the alcohol and all the dancing he'd done earlier.

She let out a breath and scooped two drinks off of a server's tray, thrusting one at him. “Did I act like I was completely obsessed when I was talking to Monroe?” she asked.

He scanned the vague memories he'd made in the last half an hour, which really were not all that coherent. The water had helped, but he was still pretty wasted. “Which one was that?”

“The one with the kind of weird hair.”

Bellamy started laughing. “They all had weird hair.” He shook his head. “Not helping.”

She laughed too. It was kind of hot in the warehouse, or at least, he felt it was, and her cheeks were pinker than he'd ever seen them. “Whatever. The one with the kind of mohawk.”

“Right,” he nodded.

“You don't remember, do you?” But he could tell that she wasn’t even a little upset about it.

He smiled a little and shrugged.

"You are no help!" she said.

Not wanting her to spend the rest of the night worrying, he told her, “You were amazing with all of them. Don't worry.”

It might've just been the flash of a pink strobe light, but he swore she blushed even deeper. He moved a little closer to her without even thinking about it. Bellamy was an idiot, he knew this, but he couldn't help it when it came to Clarke. She seemed to take a step towards him too, but it also could've been to get out of the way of someone dressed in a hockey jersey.

“There you guys are,” Bellamy heard over the music.

Like fucking _Beetlejuice,_ Murphy materialized and snaked a hand around Clarke's waist, kissing the top of her head.

He was doing his best to ignore that that had happened when the rest of their friends showed up, too.

Monty and Harper's clothes were both a little rumpled from all the dancing. He almost cackled at the sight that Jasper had a bit of lipstick on his lips. The color Maya seemed to be wearing, though hers was considerably more smudged now. Jackson and Miller had swapped shirts. Octavia and Lincoln were arm in arm and she was grinning more than he'd seen in months. Shaw was looking pleased with himself, and Raven was tucked into his side.

“You guys ready to head out?” Harper asked. Not looking at Clarke and Murphy, he agreed.

“I think Echo and Emori are just finishing up one more round of beer pong, to claim their crowns and all that, so we can go after that,” Miller told them all.

He figured maybe they'd grab another drink or head over to one of the leather couches to wait. But Murphy wasn't going to allow something as easy as that though.

“How were the assholes?” he asked Clarke, teasing her with a smirk. She jabbed him with her elbow, and he pinched her hip. 

“Murphy!” she exclaimed.

Murphy didn't even have the decency to look sheepish.

She swatted him away, which only made Murphy bring her in closer so he could pinch her again.

“You're such an ass,” she said, dismissive.

But Bellamy knew that if she was actually pissed about it, Murphy would know.

Clarke’s insult didn't stop Murphy from doing it again. And again. After that, well, as cliché as it sounded, Bellamy understood what people meant when they said they saw red.

When Murphy made a move to pinch her again, he spat out, “Stop it, alright? She doesn't like it.” 

He didn't even want to see how his friends reacted to that.

Murphy looked at Clarke, who appeared to be frozen in place, and then gave him a smirk. “She likes everything I do to her.”

Bellamy didn’t even realize he'd shoved Murphy until he stuttered out, “The fuck?" 

Murphy was kind of laughing. Like he couldn't believe he'd done it, and honestly, neither could Bellamy.

So he did it again.

Murphy regained his balance for the second time, and he looked pissed. He figured he'd storm off, and Clarke would kiss his wounds for him, but instead, he got closer, narrowing the space between them. His eyes held accusations that Bellamy knew he could never allow to be spoken into words. 

“You've had a lot to drink, Bellamy.”

He couldn't really argue with that, but he did look over at Clarke. She avoided his eye.

“What's going on?” Echo asked, coming up to them and interrupting the tension of the moment.

“Nothing,” Clarke jumped in. “Murphy was just being a dick.”

Echo looked confused for a moment, and then offered everyone a roll of her eyes and a smile. “You mean, like always?”

Murphy was still kind of in his face, and he shot Echo a look, before turning back to face Bellamy. “Actually, I think the only one being a dick here tonight is Bellamy.”

“I'm the dick?” he asked. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah. _Really_.”

“Murphy, leave it,” but it wasn't Clarke who'd said it. It was Raven.

Bellamy really thought he was gonna get punched in the face, but instead, Murphy shrugged it off. “Whatever," he said, and backed off. 

“Come on, Clarke. Let's get the fuck out of here.” Then he slung an arm around her shoulders and they started to walk out.

Clarke looked over her shoulder at him, kind of sad and disappointed, before they went through the door. It made Bellamy feel awful. Echo placed a hand on his arm, but he brushed it off.

He shook his head, feeling even worse for being such a dick to not only Murphy but everyone else, now, too. “I just wanna get out of here.”

She nodded. He could tell she wanted to say something, but he cut her off. “It was nothing. Just stereotypical alpha male shit brought on by too much alcohol, alright?”

Echo smiled a little at that and grabbed his hand. “Okay.” She took a breath. “Let's get out here, then.”

When they got back to her place, they did end up having sex, even though she'd made a joke that he was probably too drunk to get it up on the way home. If it was more intense and a little rougher than it'd been in weeks, so be it. After she was asleep, and he willed himself to do the same, he told himself over and over that it had absolutely nothing to do with Clarke. 

He knew everything was fucked when he couldn’t even convince himself of it in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading ❤︎
> 
> find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)
> 
> find the playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5GqGLwbeDBNfqUp0iVjVqF?si=f3m0OCQlS5qW_tQDVrSafg)


	8. I Feel the Chemicals Kickin' In (It's Gettin' Heavier)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, lovelies!! thank you so much for being so patient with this chapter. I know it's been a bit since my last update, but I wanted to work on this chapter a lot and it took a bit to get it to a place where I'm happy with it. 
> 
> this one deals with the aftermath of the party, and the leftover weirdness that has settled amongst the group. we've got some apologies and heavier talks, but I also tried to keep things fun, too. sorry again for the wait, and hope you enjoy it!
> 
> *chapter title is from 'Animal' by Neon Trees*
> 
> *tw for mentions of drug addiction*
> 
> also a small note about drug addiction in this story: I know many addicts. the majority of whom are amazing, strong people who suffer a great deal and are just trying to live their lives. I really do not mean to demonize anyone with addiction with this story, and mainly, the events that deal with it have to do with my decisions I made for the plot. I hope you can understand. 
> 
> as always, feedback is appreciated, but please keep any hate to yourself. sending love and good thoughts to you all 💖💜💙

Clarke and Murphy walked into Grounders mid-futile argument. They were both so stubborn, she knew neither one would quit. But no way was she going to let that deter her and allow herself to give up. Not when the stakes were this high. Not when they were arguing in the name of honor. And sexual prowess. 

“No, no, no,” Murphy said as they slid into their booth, immediately drawing the attention of their friends. 

“You’re the one who’s in the wrong here,” Clarke argued. “Just admit defeat so we can move on.”

He shook his head. “If anyone needs to ‘admit defeat’ it’s you.”

She snorted. “Don’t make me laugh, seriously, you need to accept that I’m right and you’re wrong.”

Opening her mouth to retort, she’s cut off by Raven. 

“The hell are you two bickering about?” 

Murphy and Clarke replied at the same time, which would’ve been impressive if she wasn’t pissed he wouldn’t give up. 

“Orgasms,” they both said, then looking at one another accusingly.

“Oh, joy,” Lincoln deadpanned. “Please, don’t elaborate.”

Octavia shot him a look. “Or do. I mean, what are you even arguing about orgasms for? I thought you were both set in that department.” She grimaced a bit as she said the last part. 

Jasper and Bellamy were at the pool table previously, but came over before Clarke or Murphy could respond to her question. 

“What are we talking about and can we please stop so we can all acknowledge Bellamy’s epic failure?” Jasper asked, grinning as he took his seat in a chair next to the booth. 

“Tell us all about it,” Lincoln said hurriedly, but Bellamy halted Jasper before he could get a word out. 

“It was pathetic.” He added, “I beg you all, what are the rest of you talking about? I can guarantee I’ll enjoy it a hell of a lot more than Jasper’s gloating.”

Miller looked incredibly guilty to do it, but eventually, coughed out, “Orgasms.” 

Bellamy’s attention went to Clarke, which she wished it hadn’t. He didn’t say anything, but he worked his jaw and she could almost feel his anger toward Murphy. It had been a little over two weeks since Anya’s party, things had been tense, to say the least. 

Their interactions were mostly a mix of glares and crossing arms and other ridiculous displays of their apparent masculine prowess. The situation created one of the most competitive games of _Call of Duty_ she had ever witnessed. One in which Bellamy killed Murphy even though they were on the same team and then Murphy returned the favor no less than three times. Miller had assured her that basketball during those two Sundays nearly resulted in a repeat of the events of that night.

Yesterday, when they all went to the park and Bellamy and Murphy basically only spoke in insults, Jasper and Monty had created a group chat named _Get the Boys Back Together._ Their main suggestions were either locking them in a closet or handcuffing them together. 

Clarke knew she had to do _something_ but she wasn’t sure if she would be able to get through to either one of them without pissing off the other even more. 

Echo frowned at Bellamy, and for one horrifying moment, she thought she might say something to him. Instead, Echo ended up speaking up in what Clarke could tell was an attempt to diffuse the tension. 

“What? Murphy not delivering?” she asked, trying for a laugh. 

Clarke put off her answer, even if she was desperate to take the attention off of The Bellamy And Murphy Of It All. She had a feeling this would only make everything worse. Poor Echo. God. Why couldn’t they just sit down and talk about it? Granted, she didn’t think she could judge, since she wasn’t exactly the best in that department either. If she was, Bellamy might know how far gone she was for him. Still. Which was...Infuriating, to say the least. 

Murphy held no such reservations though. 

“Oh, believe me, I am,” he said. He looked for Clarke for confirmation. She felt the rest of their friends’ attention on her, too. Fucking hell, she thought. They really all need to get hobbies. 

She rolled her eyes, but decided to play along. It was the truth, after all. “Fine, you are, just don’t let it get to your already giant head.”

He smirked, and the little shit, winked at everyone.

They all made grimaces and gags and various other displays of disgust. All except Bellamy, who just looked even more ticked off. It was starting to annoy her in a way it hadn’t before. Yes, she knew her sleeping with Murphy was weird. But it’d been weird when he started dating Echo, too. She deserved to have fun, even if that fun was, even in her eyes, a little disturbing. Whatever, she decided. If Bellamy wanted to insist on still being pissed for her having a sex life, he could.

“Then what are you arguing about?” Jackson frowned, and seemed to regret the question almost as soon as he said it. 

“It’s a hypothetical,” Murphy said, gesturing to her. “Clarke here thinks she can best me.”

Harper looked between them. “Like...Best you in orgasms?”

Clarke took a sip from her beer and nodded solemnly. “Exactly.” Harper went a little pale and glanced at Bellamy, but Clarke pointedly ignored the way he shifted in his seat. She shoved Murphy a bit and told them all, “This little shit thinks that he can give me more orgasms than I can give him.”

“Well...Biologically speaking—” Jackson started. 

“See!” Murphy exclaimed and looked at her with a smug expression all over his annoying face. “It’s genetics, sweetheart. Check and Mate.”

“I disagree,” Lincoln said, which shocked all of them. Usually, he ignored these types of discussions, opting for cool dismissal. 

“Ha!” she shot at Murphy. “Admit defeat now, loser.”

“Never,” he said, getting a little closer. Like that was going to intimidate her. 

Raven sucked on her teeth but continued to say nothing, though Clarke did notice how Murphy kept checking to see her response to the conversation. She wanted to tell him to be a little less obvious, but knew he’d act like he didn’t know what she was talking about if she did. After Anya’s party, he’d tried to tell her something similar. She knew even his good intentions were no use. When it came to Bellamy, she couldn’t help herself. Somehow, she felt sure that it was the same for Murphy with Raven. 

Monty cleared his throat and raised a single pointer finger. “There is but one solution.”

Jasper grinned and began to chant quietly. It took a second for Clarke to hear what he was saying over Harper and Miller’s objections. “Bet, bet, bet,” he was saying. 

“Let’s not,” Jackson said. 

But his plea was immediately dismissed by Octavia. “Oh my god, please!” she got out. “We haven’t had a decent long-game bet since Emori and Echo competed to be the top scorer at the ax-throwing place.”

Emori smirked. “Ah yes, my victory. The one that will go down in history.”

Meanwhile, Echo crossed her arms and said, “I still think you cheated.”

Emori grew even more smug. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

Echo opened her mouth to say something else, but Bellamy beat her to it. “Are we seriously involving ourselves in our friends’ sex life to the extent that we’re asking them to make a bet of it?”

Jasper didn’t hesitate, to his credit. “Uh, yeah, of course, we are.”

Harper bit her lip, but ultimately went with, “I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time we got overly involved in each others’ lives.”

“Plus, it’s for a good cause,” Emori added.

“How?” Raven asked, speaking up for the first time. Her tone had some bite to it, but not enough that anyone but Clarke and Murphy (and maybe Bellamy?) seemed to notice. 

“Because,” Emori grinned, as it was obvious, “Clarke here is obviously going to kick his ass.”

She smirked and stuck out her chin. “You know it.”

Murphy rolled his eyes. “Emori, you of all people should know just how wrong that is.”

Emori scoffed and Monty smirked.

“I’m on Team Clarke too,” Monty said. He raised his fist to bump, which she did so gladly. 

“Dream Team!” Jasper added and Clarke laughed, soaking up the confidence her friends were giving her. 

They quickly all picked a ‘victor’. Emori, Monty, Jasper, Lincoln and Miller picked her. While Harper, Jackson, Octavia, and Echo picked Murphy. Bellamy and Raven counted themselves out completely. Which Clarke dismissed as best she could. 

She didn’t want things to be weird between the four of them, but she couldn’t hide her thing with Murphy all the time. She didn’t want to. It was part of her life, whether Raven and Bellamy liked it or not. Besides, she couldn’t even see why they were so bothered. Most of the time, she thought her and Murphy were pretty damn funny.

Wasn’t it enough for the two of them that they were having fun? That they hadn’t hurt one another, or even come close to it? Sometimes, like when her and Bellamy had talked at Anya’s party, she thought things might be different. That Raven or Bellamy might not feel as platonic as she believed they had before her and Murphy had started sleeping together. But then she’d come to her senses. That was wishful thinking. If they wanted them, they’d know. So, she and Murphy were allowed to have their fun. Not just allowed. But they _should_. 

“You gotta make it official,” Monty said. “One week. Whoever gives the most orgasms wins.”

Clarke and Murphy turned to one another, sticking out their hands. “You’re going down,” he said. 

“Actually, I think that’s you.” She smirked. “In both ways.”

He shook his head, and tried to cover it up, but she knew the comment delighted him in the way only Murphy could be. 

They shook, and then it was on. 

* * *

Bellamy knew when Clarke asked him to get lunch that she was going to make him apologize to Murphy, one way or another. He still agreed to it though. If only because he was even getting tired of having to be pissed off all the time whenever he was in his presence. 

“Hey,” she greeted as he sat down in an outdoor café. “Thanks for coming.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Of course. I feel like we haven’t hung out, just us, in forever.”

It wasn’t the hanging out with her part that made him hesitate to meet. It was the fact that he knew they’d probably spend most of the time talking about Murphy. Maybe even her _and_ Murphy. Which, currently, was his second least favorite topic. Right after wedding cake designs and figuring out who they were inviting and what the invitations looked like and...He wanted to marry Echo, but the wedding shit was awful. 

They caught up for a bit about work and random stuff, and he knew it was her letting him ease into the conversation. They ordered, the same thing, turkey BLT with fries, and ate while they talked about her newest show and what the year was going to look like for him. 

She chewed for a moment before going for it. “Well, I’m sure that you know why I wanted to talk. Just us. Right?”

He nodded. “You’re not exactly subtle.”

“Ha. Well…” she trailed off. Then she got right to the point, not hand-holding or careful lead-up. “Look, I don’t say this to be a bitch, but you need to cut the crap when it comes to Murphy. Especially when it comes to Murphy and _me_.”

He swallowed, unsure of the right answer here. He knew what he wanted to say. That nothing was wrong. But he’d been too obvious. At Anya’s party, and weeks prior and after it. He thought he’d be able to shut down his discomfort. That his feelings of respect and friendship for both of them would win out. But the happier Clarke seemed with Murphy, the worse it got. Clarke came here with a purpose. He knew he couldn’t bullshit his way out of this one.

So, he nodded grimly and said, “I know.”

She sighed. “So then...Why haven’t you?”

“I guess,” he cleared his throat, “it’s Murphy and we’ve had our shit in the past and we moved past that, sure, but it’s been an adjustment.” 

That was an understatement, but he couldn’t look too closely at _why_ it’d been so difficult to get used to Clarke and Murphy and their thing. He knew if he did, he might not like the answer. What it said about him or his life or his choices. He didn’t want to look and know something he knew his friends suspected all along, so he chose not to. 

It wasn’t healthy, exactly. But he thought that it was the best he thought he could do. Given the situation. 

“I know,” she replied. “But it’s been a while, now. And I feel like…” She sighed, again. “I don’t know, I feel like we’re not as close as we were and that sucks and I hate to think that it’s because of who I’m sleeping with.”

“I’m sorry, Clarke,” he said. “If you feel like I’m pulling away or creating distance or anything like that. Fuck,” he shook his head, “I’m sorry. I don’t want to do that. Especially because of you sleeping with someone...You seem really happy right now, and that’s all I can ask for.”

It was the truth. He _was_ happy that Clarke had fun with Murphy. That she seemed lighter than she had in months. Things were simple between the two of them, he could see that. But the fact that she thought he intentionally pulled away...It made his stomach churn. Clarke was one of the most important people in his life, and he hated the idea that he’d made her feel like he didn’t want to be close to her. 

“It’s okay,” she assured him, but he could tell he’d been right to apologize. “But it’s not just me you need to talk to.”

“I don’t know if talking to Murphy is going to fix everything,” he said, because, again, he knew it was the truth. 

He and Murphy had gotten along pretty great before all of this. But now, he barely knew how to speak to him. It was pathetic and wrong. Bellamy knew that. But at the same time, he understood that even if they had a conversation about it, it wouldn’t automatically fix everything. It wouldn’t take away the pain in his chest every time he saw Clarke and Murphy flirt or kiss or just act like they were doing what they were. It was unfair and more than a little dickish to know that he wanted it to go away. But as the weeks had gone on, he knew he couldn’t hide from that pain for much longer. 

“But will you try?” she asked.

“Clarke—” he started.

“Bellamy,” she interrupted. And then gave him That Look like she was a kitten found on the side of a highway. Blue eyes wide and endless. 

Fuck, he thought.

He huffed. “Alright, I’ll try to talk to him. Though it is Murphy...I can’t say if it will actually go anywhere.”

“That’s all I ask,” she told him. 

He knew that meant she probably was going to or already talked to Murphy, too, but he didn’t want to talk about that. Or what it meant that Murphy would or had listened to her, too. 

Instead, he brought up how serious O and Lincoln were and if he should start freaking out. She teased him mercilessly, and it felt good. As he was still ranting about his sister’s relationship, she picked two fries off his plate and popped one into her mouth, grinning around it. 

He made a yelp of protest. “We have the same ones!”

She shrugged. “Yours just taste better.” 

He shook his head, and laughed. When she returned it, he felt better than he had in weeks. 

Damn Clarke, he thought. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be doing this, but he promised her he’d try. So, here he was, at Murphy's place. A six pack under his arm. Waiting for him to get his ass in gear and buzz him in.

“You bring the chocolates and DVD of _10 Things I Hate About You_ I requested?” Murphy finally asked over the intercom.

Bellamy was gonna kill him.

“Just let me in, it's hot as balls out here,” he said, making himself reign in the insult that was on the tip of his tongue. 

“I guess chivalry _is_ dead,” Murphy replied, but the buzzer sounded and he entered the building.

When Murphy threw open the door to his apartment, he accepted the six-pack and grinned. “Maybe there's hope for us yet.”

It took everything in Bellamy to not roll his eyes.

They opened the beers and sat down at the kitchen table, and for a couple of minutes, neither one of them said anything. He supposed that Murphy was waiting for him to start since he had been the one to request the two, “stop being little bitch babies, and have a real conversation,” and all.

He took a long sip from his beer as he collected some kind of an apology. “I'm sorry I was such a dick at the party.” He admitted, “I don't know what was wrong with me.”

Murphy nodded and grinned a little. “Yeah, you were certainly a dick. High class one, maybe, but you did _shove_ me like we’re twelve, so.”

Bellamy's mouth twisted.

Then he shrugged. “But whatever, it's not like we haven't gotten into shit before. Honestly, comparing it to that, the night of Anya’s party was tame. Though, to quote you, you have been a bit of a bitch baby recently.” Murphy sucked on his teeth. “Since me and Clarke started doing...Whatever we’re doing.” 

That made Bellamy wince. Before they'd given in and been friends, he and Murphy had been in one hell of a fight, mostly spurred on by his own behavior and temper, which he'd only acknowledged a handful of times.

He heard Clarke’s voice in his head that he hadn’t said enough. That he needed to try harder if he was really going to be able to be better. 

“Still,” he said, “I was a drunk idiot, alright?”

Murphy smirked. “Indeed, it was not the soberest or most coherent I have ever seen you.”

He cleared his throat to go on, but before he could say anything else, Murphy said, “Sorry for being kind of dick to you since that night, though.”

Bellamy narrowed his eyes, but he went on, “I know that I was kind of being an asshole, too, that night. I mean, you know how I like to poke the bear.”

He snorted, and Murphy looked confused.

“Clarke get to you, too?” he asked.

Murphy shook his head, and said around his beer, “She looked at me with those fucking kitten eyes, and when that didn't work, she gave me this glare…” He made a face and shuddered.

Bellamy laughed a little. "Yeah, she has that effect.”

Murphy seemed to be debating something, and once he had decided on it, he said, “You know you can't be pissed at us for screwing when you're the one who's engaged.” 

Bellamy was pretty sure he gulped in response.

“I’m not pissed at you,” he told him.

Murphy gave him a look and shook his head. He thought that they’d argue about this. Could still feel the tension between them, even though it was less than it’d been before. He felt the two of them teetering on some kind of edge, and that one wrong remark could ruin his apparently now fragile friendships with both Murphy and Clarke. 

Instead of giving the biting comment he expected though, Murphy went on, “We’re having fun.” He shook his head. “She’s happy, alright?” 

Bellamy frowned, not sure where he was going with this. At the last minute though, Murphy seemed to decide something and changed course. Which made him more confused than ever. 

“Let her be.” Murphy swallowed more beer. “Okay?”

He tried to think of a proper response to that, of what Murphy was really getting at with his words. But he didn’t want to start shit back up just when they’d sort of cleared the air. So, he simply nodded.

“Okay,” he responded. “I will.”

And even as they played video games and went through the beer, that tension lingered. Even as the two of them did their best to ignore it and pretend they’d gotten rid of it. But Bellamy was now starting to understand that he wasn’t sure there were enough words in any language to get rid of the mess that now existed between him and Murphy and Clarke. And honestly, Raven should’ve been included too, given what he understood from her reactions at Anya’s party. 

What a fucking disaster this was going to be. 

* * *

_The Delinquent Group Chat_

**Jasper:** did i just...did i just see murphy make a joke and bellamy laugh at it??? 

**Harper:** shook

**Monty:** oh thank god, i thought i was hallucinating

**Octavia:** i was right!!! you are high rn!!!

**Miller:** when is he not high tho

**Monty:** only a little!! and there have been many, many times. perhaps i cant think of any at the moment but i will eventually

**Jasper:** back to my original point!!! MURPHAMY RISES

**Lincoln:** you gotta stop coming up with ship names for our friends, jasper

**Emori:** i do have to say, those assholes not looking at each other like they're gonna rip their throats out even warmed my hunk of chest meat

**Raven:** they're both still idiots, let's not get too excited

**Jackson:** im glad they clearly did the mature thing

**Echo:** jasper i can hear the sex joke youre about to make. dont.

**Jasper:** *le sigh*

**Murphy:** you assholes know we are in this chat, right?

**Bellamy:** seriously. don’t you guys have anything better to do?

**Monty:** not really, no

**Bellamy:** also, why are you all texting each other when we're all at the fucking park. technology has ruined us all.

**Harper:** dad, please dont get upset and take away our phones! 

**Lincoln:** how am i friends with literal children

**Octavia:** bc you loveeeeeee me

**Bellamy:** what did i say about speaking of such things in this group?????

**Octavia:** cant hear you over the sound of our love

**Clarke:** youre welcome, bitches. i will take thanks in the form of control of selecting the playlists for the rest of the day.

**Raven:** fuck 

**Octavia:** oh god, no

**Clarke:** suck it. teagan and sara until we die everyone.

* * *

Clarke was giving Raven a ride back from Octavia's idea of fun: a three-hour long hike two hours away from the city. While she liked some good exercise, and she had to admit the views were breathtaking, she was sure her entire body was covered in a not-so-thin layer of muck and sweat. 

Raven had made sure to not make a big deal of it. Had done her best to conceal it from everyone else. But now that they had been sitting for so long, she felt the pain shooting up from her leg.

“How is it?” Clarke asked, her eyes flicking to Raven for a moment before returning to the highway.

Figures she would've been the one person to have noticed that she was in just a little bit of pain. She shrugged, deciding to play it off as if it’s nothing. Which it sort of was. She’d been in worse pain, really. 

“It'll be fine.”

Clarke saw right through it, because...It’s Clarke. “We can stop at the hospital when we get back,” she said. “My dad's name still gives me enough clout that I don't think we would have to wait too long.”

There wasn't any pressure in the statement though, just concern.

Waving a hand, Raven replied, “Really, it happens sometimes. I'll make an appointment with my physical therapist if it doesn't go away, alright?” 

Clarke seemed to accept that, for which she was thankful for. The last thing she wanted or needed was coddling. And as much as she didn’t want to admit this part, the last person she wanted anything like that from right now was Clarke. But that was something she barely allowed herself to admit in her head. 

After a moment of silence, Clarke asked, “So, how're things with Shaw?”

“Good,” she said. “Really good recently.”

She laughed to cover up the lie. It was maybe the farthest thing from the truth. She'd told herself that she needed to do better with Clarke and work on their friendship and the weirdness that had taken root between them. Yet, here she was, blatantly lying to her because she had begun to believe she might have the tiniest fraction of feelings for her fuck buddy. 

Still, she kept going, “I kind of thought our chemistry was sputtering out, but since the party, it feels like it kind of reinvigorated us or something. Honestly,” she added, “I was kind of getting annoyed with his face, but now it's a lot better.” 

It wasn't actually, it was...Off, somehow. She was more annoyed by his face than ever and had been fighting against the reason why, but she knew it. Deep down. She just wasn’t ready to face that yet. Let alone accept it and do something about it. 

Clarke seemed to believe it though and started laughing a little.

“What?” she asked, furrowing her brow. Half-worried that she really did buy the lie and half that she hadn’t. 

She adjusted her grip on the steering wheel. “Annoyed with his face?” 

Raven shrugged. “You know what I mean.”

Something passed over Clarke’s face, but she just nodded.

Though her and Clarke were obviously still close, she knew they'd drifted apart since a couple months ago. Really, directly after they'd walked in on her and Murphy and it seemed the entire world turned upside down. It wasn't Clarke’s fault, which made Raven vaguely uncomfortable. As if she really had a reason to distance herself from her friend. That maybe she was pissed or trying to protect herself. At first, it didn’t make any sense to her. But in light of recent events, Raven was starting to accept the fact that maybe she did have some reasons for why things between her and Clarke had gotten so uncomfortable. 

They still had another hour to go. She knew if she couldn't bring herself to have a real conversation with Clarke about her and Murphy then, she probably never would.

“And how're things with you and Murphy?” she asked, even though she really didn't want to know.

In fact, there were probably ten thousand things about Clarke Griffin she wanted to know more than how things were going between her and Murphy.

When she didn't answer, Raven knew she was probably wondering why she’d chosen now to finally ask her about it. Since, to be fair, she hadn’t in all the months they’d been sleeping together. 

So, she added, “You can tell me.”

Clarke swallowed before answering, “It's, you know, it's easy. There's no drama or worrying about each other's feelings or getting caught up in _the moment_.” She smiled a little and it made Raven’s stomach twist in a knot. “It's nice. I haven't had that in a long time.”

“How's the sex?” Raven found herself asking. Maybe she was becoming a masochist or something.

Clarke blushed a little, hesitated, but eventually, got out, “It's pretty good, I've never really had this kind of relationship before, except kind of with Niylah, but that didn't last as long as this. He's still _Murphy_ obviously, so take that as you will, but...I've certainly had worse.”

Raven didn't know if she was supposed to be thrilled or disappointed that the sex wasn't mind—blowing. Or, at least, not enough for Clarke to really go on about it. It was definitely all sorts of wrong, but in the past couple of weeks, she realized she just assumed Murphy had to be _really_ good in bed.

When she didn't reply, Clarke eventually went on, “Sorry, I don't really know how to talk about it with you. I didn't think you wanted to know about this stuff. I actually thought you might still be pissed at both of us, but then I saw how you and Murphy got along, well, got along for you two, at the party and...I figured it might be just me you're pissed at.”

“I was,” Raven admitted, against her better judgment. She really was a masochist now. 

Looking down at her lap, she continued, “Pissed at both of you, I mean. Only at first, though, and I'm not anymore. And I may be kind of a bitch, but I don't think even I'm that much of one that I would only be pissed at you for something the two of you did together.” She hated that her voice sounded so defensive.

Clarke stiffened. “Raven, I didn't mean to call you a bitch, or anything like that. I understood why you were angry with us.” 

She seriously doubted that but let her continue. 

“And I think a part of me believed you had a right to be, kind of still do.” She shook her head slightly. “Bellamy and I almost got into a fight about it. Right when you guys first found out. About how it could ruin everything in the group. I really am worried about that part. I guess I just want you to know that I _know_ that this whole thing is kind of fucked."

Raven snorted. “And you're the one doing the actual fucking,” she said, surprising herself with being able to joke about it. 

Clarke laughed at that. “Hell, most days I can't believe I'm doing it.”

It would’ve been a good stopping point. A place for them to let go of the awkwardness and finally move on. Of course, she ruined it immediately after. 

“So why are you?” she asked.

Raven couldn’t even be sure why she’d asked the question, just that she’d been desperate to. Just that it kept turning around in her mind like some kind of messed up merry-go-round. She wanted to know why Clarke chose Murphy, of all people. Really, she needed to know why it had to be him when she could’ve been sleeping with anyone. Though she knew there was a reason this question in particular wouldn’t leave her alone, she was scared to hear the answer. 

For a while, she didn't think Clarke was going to get an answer. Finally though, she did. 

“Honestly?” She sighed. “I think we were both tired of being alone.”

Raven could understand that. Clarke and Lexa ended around the same time Emori broke things off with Murphy, even though she let him tell everyone it was mutual for some reason. Emori had only let that slip up when she was kickboxing with her and Echo, and she'd sworn them both to secrecy.

“But why Murphy?” she asked, unable to let it go.

Clarke swallowed. “I thought you said you weren’t pissed anymore?” 

Raven sensed the palpable tension between them. The things that went unspoken. She knew what she wasn’t saying, but had no idea what Clarke was keeping to herself. It made everything so much more complicated than she ever wanted to be. All she wanted was to ignore whatever weird feelings were bubbling to the surface and make fun of Clarke for being with Murphy. But she couldn’t. And even when she managed to force herself to do it, it never felt right. 

“I’m not.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, forget it. I’m just tired. You mind if I try to get some sleep?”

Clarke nodded. “Of course, no worries.”

But Raven knew the truth. That there were, in fact, some worries. Not just some, if she looked at the situation closely. Like a shit ton.

* * *

Things were better than they'd been in weeks, but they were still weird as hell. Even as Murphy and Raven teased one another over beers. Even though he and Bellamy no longer ignored one another’s presence and Raven seemed more relaxed than she had in a while, there was something that lingered in the air whenever he and Clarke were around Bellamy and Raven. It started to make an impact in the pointed way one of them _wouldn’t_ be around. Murphy wanted to call them all on their bullshit, but he didn’t think that would help. Like, at all. 

Besides, things really were better. 

A little part of him might've thought this had more to do with the fact that Echo was working late a lot recently, and Shaw was away at a work conference than the talks they’d had with each other recently. Murphy had tried his hardest not to grin too much when Raven told them that night he'd be gone for the week. He knew it didn’t work. 

Of course, he should've known better than to think a good thing could stay.

“Wait,” Jasper interrupted Raven mid-roast of Murphy’s latest obsession with the new badass line cook at the restaurant. “It’s the end of the week!” he exclaimed.

Miller snorted. “Amazing critical thinking skills there.”

Monty perked up too. “Oh fuck! The bet!”

That got everyone’s attention. Even Bellamy and Raven couldn’t ignore it. Bellamy took such a long sip from his beer he almost finished it. Meanwhile, Raven flicked her eyes around the room like they were talking about various shades of beige paint and not a sex bet. 

Clarke grinned. “Should we tell them?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “If you must.”

“Team Clarke for the win bitches!” she yelled.

The rest of the people who’d been rooting for her cheered and called insults toward Murphy, which he accepted with grace and a couple of middle fingers. 

This earned them a dirty look from the bartender, but they ignored it. Please. They were the bar’s best customers. They could be obnoxious every now and again. Even if being obnoxious was a weekly occurrence, if he was being honest. 

They went on for a while, and Murphy agreed to treat Clarke to as many drinks as she wanted as her victory prize. 

“I have a feeling you’ll give me another one later,” she said, all too giddy on her triumph. 

Murphy cut a look at Bellamy and Raven, who were across from them. Raven became very interested in the label on her bottle and Bellamy worked his jaw and then asked Miller if he wanted to play a round of darts. 

Things died down for a little, and Murphy could almost pretend that everything wasn’t weird and loaded. 

But that all went out the window when Octavia near-shouted, “What the actual fuck is _she_ doing here?” Her eyes narrowed at something, or someone, near the entrance. Everyone looked up from what they were doing to see what was the matter.

Murphy saw all the color drain from Clarke, and it was like a puppeteer pulled all of her strings at once. Her entire body went taught from her place besides Bellamy at the pool table.

Standing in the entrance was Abby Griffin. The last time Murphy had seen her, she was being loaded into the back of an ambulance.

“Hi, Clarke,”Abby said. She fidgeted where she stood near the entrance before adding, “I, um, called your work. They said you weren't there, but that you came here after you finished sometimes.”

He saw Bellamy shift, maybe without even realizing he was doing it, and position himself slightly in front of Clarke. Raven fixed her face into one of cool dismissal, but he saw how much she was impacted, too. Octavia looked like she was holding herself back from doing a flying tackle. Which, she really might’ve been.

When Abby’d hit her closest point, she hadn’t just fucked things up with Clarke. But with Raven and Octavia, too. And as a result, with everyone else. 

It didn't help that it was a Monday, and no one else was really around. Except for the few signature patrons who’d been coming here forever. The ones who usually just glared at their group and mumbled about how the neighborhood had gone to shit.

Clarke didn't make a move to go near her mother, so she started coming over to them. Raven, of course, had no problem stepping right in front of her.

She stuck her chin out and rose up a little to be at her full height. “I think you should go, Abby.”

Abby barely even acknowledged Raven, though really, she had fucked with her just as much as she had with her own daughter, in the end. It hurt Raven, Murphy could tell. Even though she definitely didn’t want anyone to know or see that. It wasn’t obvious, but he saw it as if it was. 

Bellamy had put a hand on Clarke's elbow, and Murphy knew Lincoln was ready to hold Octavia back if he needed to. Old habits die hard, and all that. Especially around people that you hated.

Jackson stepped up next to the two of them and said, “I really don't think this is the best time,” he looked around, “or the place. I mean, seriously, Abby? You're smarter than this.”

“Maybe she _was_ ,” Raven practically snarled. Murphy saw through that, too. Saw the pain and regret that filled the cruelty. How she wanted to cover it up, and the only way she thought she could was with anger. “Wouldn't be surprised if the drugs finally caught up to her on that front, too."

Abby flinched. Bellamy whispered something in Clarke's ear, but she acted like she didn’t hear him. She looked up at him, and he nodded slightly, releasing her.

Clarke walked over to her mother and flashed a look at her two friends. Jackson gave up quickly and went back over to the booth where Miller was sitting. Murphy saw Miller rub Jackson’s arm, and asked him something he couldn't hear. Jackson simply shook his head in response. Raven wouldn't budge though. Which no one really should’ve been surprised by.

Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head at Clarke, who was looking at her mother once more.

“Please, Raven,” Clarke said. “I know it doesn’t...Just, please, okay?”

For a second, he believed she wasn’t going to give in. But surprisingly, she did, scoffing. With heated steps, she came back over to the bar top to stand next to him.

She looked over at him and whispered, “I bet you fifty bucks she gives some cliched spiel about how she's clean now and wants to make it right.”

Her glare returned to Abby once more before he could reply. He wanted to make her feel better. And even though he knew it wasn’t exactly appropriate, he went with a joke. 

“I know better than to get in on that," Murphy told her. “The last time I bet against you, my ass got burnt. Literally.”

She smiled a little at the memory, but so faint he barely noticed it. Still, at least it seemed to have calmed her down a little. Now, the tension in the room seemed a bit better. Well, maybe not better. But Raven wasn't looking at Abby like she wanted to re-enact the hunt-down- the-family-and-try-to-kill-them-with-an-ax plot of _The Shining_ anymore.

“You look really good honey,” Abby said to Clarke.

Their attention snapped away from one another and back to Clarke and her mom. 

Clarke rolled her shoulders back so she was standing a little straighter. Murphy had to give it to her, she didn’t even flinch. Though he knew that this was her being strong out of sheer will, not because it actually didn’t touch her. 

“What do you want?” she asked.

“To make amends,” Abby let her eyes drift over to Raven, then Octavia. “To make amends with all of you.”

“Why now?” Clarke's expression was so distant from anything that resembled anger or fear. It was unreadable.

“I'm one year clean,” she replied. “I was going to try when I was going through the steps, but...You never answered any of my calls, and I thought maybe it would be better if I waited until I felt sure in myself.”

Beside him, Raven shook her head. It wasn't really their thing, and he'd probably fail at it anyway. But more than anything, he wanted to sling an arm around her, or take her hand, or make another stupid joke. Anything to release some of the tension she was holding. Or provide an escape from the pain he knew she still felt towards Abby.

Abby went on, “I know that I was a mess, alright?” 

That was one word for it, he thought. 

“But I miss you, Clarke. And I know I probably don't deserve it, and that you have every right to never want to speak to me again, but,” she took a breath, “I am your mother, and you will always, always be my daughter.”

It sounded rehearsed, which it probably was, and he wondered if only he and Raven would see it for what it was: a load of bull.

Clarke didn't, or if she did, she blocked out that part. Shocking all of them, and he saw it register on all of their faces, she didn't turn away from Abby or tell her to fuck off. She shrank into herself. She looked like she was a little kid lost at Disney World, helpless and scared, but there was something in her eyes too. Hope. Like maybe, she'd just been found by fucking Cinderella or something, and that they were gonna get her back to her parents in no time.

In a move that twisted his stomach, she moved closer to Abby, offered the smallest of smiles, and enveloped the woman into a hug. Abby reciprocated immediately.

He risked a glance at Raven. Her bottom lip was trembling, but she turned away so she didn't have to watch the rest of the reunion. This was not going to end well. He knew it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading ❤︎
> 
> find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)
> 
> [find the playlist here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5GqGLwbeDBNfqUp0iVjVqF?si=b303g2yWRUWShsEklFxKzg)


	9. Sugar, We're Goin' Down Swinging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, lovlies!! this update includes some moments between bellarke and murven as both Clarke and Raven confront their feelings about Abby. also, the drama gets kicked off a bit more in this one. destination angst city? it's coming in the next couple of chapters. 
> 
> hope you enjoy it and thank you so, so much for the lovely feedback. 
> 
> *chapter title is from 'Sugar, We're Goin' Down' by Fall Out Boy*
> 
> *tw for mentions of drug addiction*
> 
> sending all the love and good thoughts your way 💞💞💞

Abby Griffin was a lot like Fight Club. Everyone knew what happened between her and Clarke (and eventually, Raven and O), but they all acted like they didn't. There were a lot of unspoken rules when it came to her. Most importantly maybe, they _especially_ didn't talk about it. As far as Bellamy knew, no one had ever had a conversation about it, deciding that they needed to keep the conversation out of their mouths and Clarke’s ears. 

He supposed that in light of everything that went down, they'd all just collectively understood that it was for the best. Given the amount of pain and regret and self-loathing Abby brought out, even before the drugs, and from his own sister as well, things were a lot easier that way.

For almost two years, including the time directly after Clarke cut off contact when he and O still weren’t speaking, she never did so much as to mention her mother. 

Well, to everyone else, at least. She talked to him about it. _A lot_. Stories of a childhood where she felt loved but never truly understood by her mom. How her dad’s death fractured Clarke and Abby in a way she now knew never had a chance to heal. The way Abby threw herself into her work, and then a relationship with Marcus Kane, who Clarke did like but would never hold a flame to Jake. Why Clarke got in trouble at school, mostly just for the hell of it. To try and feel _something_. By the time Abby and her talked about losing Jake, she felt it was too late. The damage between them was done, and while she knew Abby loved her, she never felt close to her like she once did. 

Then there were the parties and galas and other fancy events. Endless and monotonous and Clarke paraded around as the darling daughter. A part she never wanted to play, but did so in order to make Abby happy. 

Finally, the pills, and when she couldn’t get those anymore, heroine. Bellamy knew more about that than he’d admit to Clarke, especially not now that she was trying to have her back in her life. Most of it she knows though, the way he was with her for the overdoses, both of them. Making her tea and letting her zone out on the couch for hours after. Just doing everything he could to be there for her, in a quiet way so she wouldn’t realize it until she’d already accepted it. 

In the beginning of his sister’s reintegration into the group, O spewed the occasional insult about the woman. After he and her went through family therapy and she saw a therapist on her own as well, she got to a place where she didn’t need to discuss her anymore. With enough time, Octavia eventually stopped talking about Abby entirely. 

After a couple of months, it almost felt like Clarke’s mom was dead.

But she certainly wasn't. Not anymore. Not since Clarke had decided to give her a chance to be a part of her life. 

Over a very awkward text exchange, she told everyone, but especially Raven and O, and by extension himself, that she wouldn't talk about her if they didn't want her to. She made it clear that she didn't expect them to extend the same courtesy as she did. That she was only doing it because she knew she loved her, and was scared of what a rejection could do. 

To only him, as far as he knew (though he supposed she could’ve told Murphy as well, which was _fine_ ), she confessed more. 

“I just...I couldn’t say no,” she got out, around a mug of chamomile tea Bellamy practically forced into her hands. “I know that it doesn’t make sense to you or the others. But I love her, and despite everything, she loves me, too. And she promised me…” She cleared her throat. “She said it wouldn’t be like it was before, no obligations or puppeteering.” She nodded, as if trying to convince herself. “I have to try.”

He saw the worry swimming around in her eyes, so he reached out and put a hand on her knee and squeezed it a bit before he said, “It doesn’t have to make sense. You do what’s right for you, alright? I promise, no matter how the others feel, I’ll back you.”

Even despite his reassurances, things were still tense, in a painfully obvious way he knew each of his friends experienced each in their own way. 

They had existed in this strange new dynamic for almost a week, but he knew it couldn't last as it currently was for much longer.

If Bellamy was being honest with himself, he didn't like the fact that Clarke was letting her mom back in. He hadn't found it in himself to forgive Abby for what she'd put Clarke through. Before her addiction took hold, as well as after.

He never said anything to Clarke, until she started bringing it up to him, but the way Abby and Clarke got along never seemed fully right to him. He got that he was playing a bit of a hypocritical game since his own relationship with Aurora had been tense at best most of the time, regardless of the love there. Her putting responsibility for Octavia all on him. But at least she accepted him for who he was. Abby loved Clarke, he saw that, and it wasn’t that she was even all that bad of a person. In small ways though, ones he didn’t think she ever realized, she hurt her.

For the days following Abby’s entrance into Grounders and back into Clarke’s life, Bellamy tried not to think about it, because it was complicated and really not his business. But he hated the thought that Abby might hurt her more, or that Clarke and her having a relationship might not even be the best thing for her sobriety. 

She didn't deal with the collateral when she disappeared for two weeks, only to show up at Clarke's door, strung out and in desperate need of a fix. She hadn't held Clarke's hand when they shipped her off to rehab for the second time. She hadn't dealt with reporters coming to their door, asking them questions even they didn't have the answers to. He had.

But honestly, he didn’t care about that. He would’ve done it for Clarke without blinking. Actually, he did, which brought such a surprise from Clarke it crushed him a little. What mattered more was that with each action, his best friend had more burdens to bear than she had before. He would’ve dealt with anything Abby went through, if only Clarke didn’t have to schmooze for her mom or sign away parts of herself in exchange for her happiness or career or whatever she wanted. 

There was also the way his little sister factored into everything. While he knew O had to take responsibility for her own actions, and now did, most of the time, he knew his sister still carried around a lot of guilt for who she'd become after getting involved in Abby's world.

Again, it was a complete mess, one he was scared to attempt to navigate. 

But he also knew Clarke needed someone she could talk to about her mother and the steps they were taking to repair what little they could between them. She would never risk taking the first step in talking about it though, so he knew he had to give her the okay. Even if it made his heart clench with the thought that she believed she wasn’t allowed to ask for what she needed. So, one night when they were watching _Wonder Woman_ for maybe the fifth time, he went for it.

"I know you said you were fine with not talking about your mom to us, but I want you to know that you can talk about her to me," he said. “I won’t judge or tell anyone else or, you know…” he trailed off, finishing lamely but glad he got it out. 

She was in the middle of shoveling a handful of popcorn in her mouth, so maybe he hadn't chosen the perfect moment. It took a while, even after she finished the popcorn, for her to reply.

She seemed to choose her words carefully, getting out, "I don't want to make you upset. I know you're not her biggest fan." 

Understatement of the year, he thought.

"That may be true," he allowed, "but she's still _your mom_. It's okay that you're speaking to her again, that you've decided she might be worth having as a part of your life. I've been where you are, reconnecting with a family member when you might’ve thought you never would."

She swallowed. "I know. But it was different with Octavia. She didn’t...She made mistakes, yes, but you know it’s different.”

Bellamy nodded, he did agree with that. O was still so damn young, when most of it went down. She, more than anyone else, spoke about holding herself accountable. But there were important differences, ones that neither one of them could ignore. 

He added, “It doesn’t make it any less okay for you to decide you want to let her back in.” 

She opened her mouth to reply, but he asked, “Let me say something, okay?” 

When she nodded, he went on, "It's okay that you want her to be a part of your life even though she fucked up. People mess up all the time. I mean, look at the rest of us. We’ve all hurt each other, at different points in time. Yes, I have to admit I’m not sure how much I trust her, but it isn’t up to me. It’s up to _you_ and what feels right. You, of all people, shouldn't feel bad about making that decision.”

Clarke turned down the volume on the TV and shifted on the couch so that she was facing him, and he did the same. She drew one of her legs up against her chest. 

Sighing, she bit her lip for a moment, before speaking. 

"I just feel so guilty after everything she put Raven through and she introduced Octavia to Ontari and her friends. If it hadn't been for that kick-ass Diyoza as her public defender, she could've gotten so much worse than community service and her record cleared. She could’ve been sent to prison and—" 

At that, he couldn't help but cut her off.

" _Octavia_ nearly got herself sent to prison, not your mom," he reminded her.

"I guess," she said, but he knew she didn’t believe it. 

What he didn’t feel was necessary to add was that for a long time, he did blame Abby for his sister getting arrested. He’d talked about it with O recently though, broaching the topic carefully. She assured him she wanted to support Clarke, too. That she had found hope, and wasn’t afraid of who she’d been or what she’d done anymore. Just that she wanted to be someone different. 

He really had Charmaine Diyoza and her daughter, Hope, to thank for so much of that. In the time they didn’t speak, O’s public defender had taken her under her wing. Helped her realize who she really wanted to be. Who she could be. It was Diyoza who had been the first person to help him and Octavia come back together. 

Clarke cleared her throat and he thought she might shut down the conversation.

“Clarke,” he started. “You can tell me anything, alright?” He offered as much of a smile as he could, as much as the moment warranted. 

She nodded, and after a second, said, "I know that I'm being selfish. For wanting her back even though she did all these awful things."

He couldn’t let _that_ stand. Even for a minute. 

"You're not being selfish,” he replied, just as fast as she’d said the words. “Not at all.” 

He shook his head when he could tell she didn’t believe him, and moved closer to her. “You're being human, okay? It’s normal to want your mom in your life, and no one gets to tell you that you’re not right or selfish or anything else for wanting it.”

Clarke nodded, but he could tell she didn't fully accept his words as the truth he knew they were. He thought she'd say more, or feel that she could finally talk about it now that he had said it was alright. She didn’t though, just played with a fraying edge on the couch and had a stormy look of confusion in her eyes. She needed more prodding, it turned out.

"So,” he treaded carefully, trying to keep his voice light. “Tell me all the annoying things she's said or done in the past week, already, alright?"

She hesitated for a moment and he was ready to try even harder to get her to open up. But then she admitted, “It hasn't been that bad." 

Bellamy wasn’t sure if he could believe _that,_ even if Abby really had changed. Even before her addiction, she had never been the most courteous to Clarke or understanding of what she really wanted versus what _she_ wanted for _her_. 

"Really," she added, laughing a little at what must’ve been an unimpressed look on his face. “She's been different. Hasn't mentioned one gala or dinner party or campaign event. Not that those are happening much anymore, I don't think.”

Clarke made a face that spoke to the fact that Abby might’ve mentioned _something_ like that. 

“But?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking. 

“Well, she’s having this birthday party at the house. Jaha’s throwing it or something.” Clarke coughed. “She wants me to go,” she added, chewing on her lip, lost in thought.

Bellamy didn’t reply for a second, and she sighed. “You think it’s a bad idea, right?”

He frowned, but didn’t say anything. That must’ve been answer enough for her, though. 

She waved a hand and smiled a bit, but he could tell she had to force herself to do it and he hated himself for being so obvious. 

“I know, I know.” She huffed. “I told her I had to think about it.” She shook her head. “Of course, you’re all invited too, but I said that that’s asking way too much. She got that, but, I don’t know. I thought maybe it wouldn’t be awful?”

He knew he couldn’t let her think that she wasn’t allowed to go. Or worse, blame herself for wanting to attend the party. Even though the idea of it gave him a bad feeling, for some reason. It was just one party though, he reminded himself. One night.

“I think you should go,” he said. “I mean, if you want to, that is. And _only_ if you want to.”

“I…” she trailed off, as if afraid of her own answer. But then she went on, “I think I do.”

“Then, go, drink fancy champagne, laugh at Jaha.”

She choked out a laugh. “God, you remember the time he…?”

Bellamy snorted. “Do I ever.”

She looked so much more at ease before they started talking, and then he wanted to do even more to help her. To make her realize he really was in this for her. 

So, knowing his friends might kill him for it, he told her, “Maybe we should all go. You know, offer support and all that.”

Clarke frowned. “That’s really nice, Bellamy. More than nice, but really, I know it’s hard for all you. You don’t have to—”

“I won’t force anyone,” he grinned a bit, “promise. But I’ll talk to them, alright? It could be fun for us.”

“You really think so?”

“No,” he deadpanned and she laughed again. “But, I think it would be good of us to be there for you.”

Something shined her eyes as she looked at him for a moment, but just as quickly, she looked away and down at her lap. 

Without looking up, she said, "I don't know. Am I crazy for thinking that things might be okay between us someday?"

"You didn't tell me I was crazy for talking to O again,” he said, remembering that painful, tumultuous time when he didn’t know if he and his sister could ever be whole again. Could even try. “Why would I think that about you?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe because I know it wasn't easy, being there for me through all of that, especially when you had all of your own shit going on at the same time.”

At that, he has to roll his eyes, the idea is so ridiculous. "Like you weren't there for me too? Come on, Clarke."

She looked up and offered a small smile. "Well, I _tried_ to be."

He pretended to be offended.

"You didn't make it easy, either."

"Yeah.” He sighed, she did have a point, after all. "I was kind of a basket case for a while there."

"Not always. Only on like, alternating weeks, and most weekends," she teased.

He laughed at that, and she returned it, shaking her head a little so a piece of hair fell out of her messy bun and into her face. Before she could move to tuck it behind her ear, he already had. It felt a little dangerous, for some reason, though they were always affectionate with one another. Seeking the other out for comfort that sometimes words couldn’t bring. He found himself stroking her cheek. Just a little. He was worried it'd be too much. After all, he couldn't remember the last time they’d had this kind of contact. 

He hadn’t meant to create distance between the two of them, but since he found out about her and Murphy, he knew it’d been building. Even as he tried to fight against it. She didn’t pull away though, and instead, leaned into the touch, smiling softly. He couldn't bring himself to remove his hand, and after a moment, she reached up with her own and placed it on top of his, like she was scared he was going to take it away.

It lasted way too long than was probably appropriate, especially for someone who had a fiancé.

But this was _Clarke_. She was his best friend, that was all. 

There seemed to be a different set of rules, when it came to them. 

He figured he was going to have to make things unbearably awkward and disrupt the moment, but before he could he even begin to think of a way to do that, she dropped her hand and he was able to pull away his own.

"Thank you," her voice was quiet.

He didn't think she was going to say anything else, but eventually, she near-whispered, "You're incredible, you know that?"

He snorted, knowing he had to play it off, had to keep this moment from blooming into something he didn’t even think was possible. That he didn’t even _understand_. 

The thoughts from the Game Night where he found out she had a thing for him came back into focus, but he cleared it from his mind as fast as he could. While he now knew she might've had those feelings once before, she had repeatedly told him she didn't anymore. Besides, it didn’t matter. He was engaged to Echo and she was sleeping with Murphy and...That’s how it was. That’s how it had to be. 

"Really,” she pressed, seemingly unaware of the dangerous place his mind had gone. “You are. So just accept the damn compliment."

Rolling his eyes, he replied, "Well, who am I to argue about the fact that I'm _incredible_?"

"Exactly," there was triumph in her voice, though it wasn’t without her slightly mocking tone, which made him grin even more. “Now, let's stop with the mushy shit and get back to the movie. My favorite part's about to come on."

They spent the next hour fighting over the rest of the popcorn, but he knew she let him have the last of it, even if she acted like she'd just lost the gold medal in the Olympics as she did so.

When he woke up on the couch the next morning, he realized they'd passed out before the movie had even ended. It wasn't the first time, but it had been a while, maybe even before he started dating Echo. 

His phone buzzed and he looked at it, holding in a curse. About five million messages from Echo. Shit. He was supposed to be at her place last night after hanging out with Clarke. He typed out a quick apology and told her he’d make it up to her somehow, promise. 

And then he recognized their positioning, and his heart gave a stutter he tried to ignore but couldn’t. 

Clarke was curled up into his side, her head on his chest, and his right arm was asleep, which should've bothered him. But it didn't. He thought for a moment about waking her up and getting some kind of breakfast or coffee going, but she looked so damn peaceful. In the end, he couldn't bring himself to do it. 

Without thinking too much about what it meant, he closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep again.

* * *

Raven knew something was up when Murphy said he wanted to hang out at his place after Bellamy asked them all if they would consider going to Abby’s birthday party to support Clarke. Which was….Really, she didn’t know what to make of it or what to decide. 

But her and Murphy didn't just casually hang out, okay? They made specific plans for specific days that had strict rules. Or at least, that was what she'd told herself. These plans also never involved her going to Murphy's, for some reason. So when he suggested she come over for a couple of beers and the newest John Mulaney special, she started to prepare herself for something heinous to go down.

When she knocked and he let her in, nothing seemed to be off. That didn't make all of her worries go away. This _was_ Murphy, she reminded herself, he could be a tricky bastard when he wanted to be one.

"Ready to make that weird chortling noise you do when you laugh too hard?" he asked as a greeting.

"I do not chortle," she fired back.

"Oh, you do. Don't worry though, it's a very nice chortle. The best chortle in all of Arkadia." 

"Fuck you," she said.

He grinned. "Wish you would."

At that, she crossed her arms over her chest and raised a brow. God. He could never be serious, could he? Sometimes, she wondered how the hell he managed to make a joke out of _everything_.

"Relax, alright?” He shook his head. “Not gonna step on the mechanic dick's toes." That was probably the closest thing to an apology she was going to get.

She snorted and dismissed it. "Whatever. You promised me beer, if I do recall."

"In the kitchen," he said, practically throwing himself onto the piece-of-shit couch he refused to get rid of, even though it smelled suspiciously like a swamp creature.

She grabbed two bottles and settled down beside him, and waited for the boom to drop on her. But they got halfway through the special, and nothing. Honestly, it was pissing her off a little, the fact that he wouldn't just ask her whatever he wanted. 

She knew that it was most likely about Abby. How Clarke had just accepted her back with open arms as if she hadn't spent nearly three years making all of their lives hell. Especially her and Octavia’s and Raven's.

It brought up way too many unwelcome feelings and memories, which she had done her best to block out. She'd been in therapy for almost an entire year coming to terms with all of it. The fact that her mother-figure had gone down the very same path that her own had, only this time, she'd tried dragging her down with her. 

Abby had supported Raven when no one else ever had, and even though she'd believed in herself, having someone, especially someone like Abby Griffin, believe in her...It had meant everything. Some days, she had thought that she and the woman might've had a better relationship than her and Clarke. Of course, she supposed that only made it that much easier for Abby to use Raven to get what she wanted.

The special was coming to a close, and still, Murphy hadn't so much as uttered a biting comment. 

Finally, she spat out, "Will you just ask me about her already?"

He looked over at her slowly, and then took a sip from his beer. The bastard had the gall to feign innocence. "And of whom are we speaking?"

"You know who."

“Now is a very interesting time to get fired up about Voldemort,” he replied.

She whacked him with a pillow, which only made him laugh. A moment later though, he turned serious. 

Setting down the beer, he sighed. "I thought you didn't want to talk about it."

"Of course I don't," she responded, as if this wasn’t obvious enough. She had made her feelings quite clear, really, and she didn’t get why he just ignored that. “But you clearly think I do."

He shrugged. "I don't think it matters what I think. Exclusively in this particular situation, of course."

"Of course.” She smirked for a second, but it dropped off her face as her thoughts and memories of Abby started to come back to her in pieces. Like shards of glass she’d done her best to sweep into some far-flung corner of her mind. 

"You can talk about it though, to me. If you want. Won't let any of it get back to anyone, so feel free to let the curses fly," he told her, and she didn't know why, but she really did believe him.

She didn't think she was going to say anything about it, and she guessed neither did he because he turned away from her.

"I hate her," she said, and she absolutely despised the way her voice shook with the blur of emotions she felt.

"I hate her still, and I don't care if that makes me a terrible person or unsympathetic or whatever. I do not wish her well. I don't want her around me or any of us, really. I never will. I hate her and I hate that Clarke's decided to let her back in, because...She's just gonna fuck it all up, again."

He shifted, so that he was facing her on the couch, but didn't say anything. So Raven kept going.

"I mean, she _used_ me to get a fix. She manipulated me, and when that stopped working, she threatened to go to my boss and get me fired.” She hated how bitter her voice sounded, but it couldn't be helped. 

"My own mom was a lot of things, but at least she never did that.” 

Raven swallowed, and avoided looking at him directly. He still didn’t reply, and somehow, she got to the place where the words kept rushing out. She couldn’t have stopped them if she wanted to. 

“When I was a kid, my mom would do the same exact thing that she's doing now. She'd get clean and make amends and tell me how much she loved me and that it would never happen again. But then in three months or weeks or fucking days, she would be right back where she'd started, and I would be the idiot that believed her." 

She didn't know what else there was to say, probably a whole lot, but it seemed she'd run out of words.

"I can hardly believe you've ever been an idiot," he said.

She looked him in the eye, and she'd never seen John Murphy look so...Soft. He was giving her this sympathetic expression, kind of sad, but not at all pitying, and something deeper too, that she didn't want to look too closely at.

“Yeah, well, even geniuses have their weaknesses," was her reply.

She didn't know that she'd started crying until the tears started dripping from her chin onto her t-shirt. 

"Shit," she muttered, wiping them away, pressing her palms against her eyes for a moment in vain. The last thing she needed was to fucking cry about Abby to Murphy, of all people. 

"Go ahead," she said. “Make some idiot joke about how I'm leaking oil or I need to go into the repair shop for a tune-up or something so we can move on and pretend I'm not a pathetic mess.”

He didn't make a joke though. He moved towards her, and she was confused at what the hell he was doing at first, but then, he brought his arms around her. He fucking _hugged_ her. 

Murphy held her, and even though she hadn't made a move to reciprocate, it didn't feel nearly as weird and wrong as it should've. Maybe a little awkward though, but really, it was Murphy expressing emotions, so she wasn't too surprised. It took her a second too long, but she reached up and let her arms wrap around him, too.

They broke apart after a moment, and Raven finished wiping the tears from her cheeks. 

"You got more beer, right?" she asked when he didn't say anything for a bit.

"Yeah, I've got more beer," he replied.

"Good," she nodded. “‘Cause we're gonna need it if I'm gonna keep talking about this shit." He laughed a little at that, and got up from the couch and went into the kitchen.

"You're really good at feelings and being emotional, anyone ever tell you that?" he said around a pleased grin when he got back with two more bottles.

She cracked one of them open and responded, "I'm really good at everything." 

He snorted. 

"Jerk," she said.

"Jerk?" he asked. "Reyes, you've _destroyed_ me.” He tsked his tongue. “Those vicious, vicious words. They really know no bounds." He plopped down on the couch beside her and she tried to fight off her smile, but it didn’t work. 

"Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “You wanna hear more depressing shit about Abby and me or not?"

"Give me your worst," he replied without missing a beat.

* * *

"It's an important part of our culture," Clarke argued to Bellamy after he'd launched another protest about how stupid this was. They'd been going at it like an old married couple for at least twenty minutes now, and everyone was getting tired of it.

Murphy rolled his eyes, he didn't really care one way or the other, but he was siding with Clarke because, well, he was sleeping with her, after all. Plus, he knew it kind of ticked Bellamy off and that was just too enjoyable. 

" _Love Island_ is not culture. It is mindless slop invented to numb our brains so we don't notice our rights are being stripped away," Bellamy fired back, but there wasn't any real venom in his voice.

"Then why did you agree to come to our binge-watching of the entire first season?" she challenged.

"It's happening at _my house._ "

She considered this before replying, "We do have the best TV."

"Yeah.” Bellamy snorted. “And I wonder who was behind that decision, and who wanted to adopt the one she found on the sidewalk."

Clarke huffed. "I still think that one would've worked _fine_..."

He turned to Echo. “Back me up here."

Echo looked vaguely uncomfortable by this, which, seriously, how could she not? But she played it cool enough, Murphy supposed. 

"You guys are arguing over a TV that you already own. Can we just see how truly awful this show is already?"

Miller cut in, "Please, for the love of all that is sacred. I think I'll prefer watching whatever Hell this show is than listening to you two bicker."

They both opened their mouths to protest that, but Monty had already selected the first episode and pressed play.

Not even twenty minutes in, they all started shouting stuff at the TV, which pissed Clarke off because, apparently, they were, "missing the best parts," which he highly doubted.

In fact, he was really reconsidering their whole relationship just based on the fact that she actually seemed to like this crap, but maybe that was just him being a little pissy asshole. Raven and Shaw had gone bowling with Lincoln and Octavia that night. Who even went fucking bowling anymore? Losers who couldn't cook, that's who.

Raven seemed to be handling things a little better in light of her letting out all the resentment she had towards Abby to him, even finally caving and agreeing to go to Abby’s party with the rest of them because, “I’m not scared of that bitch”. 

She still thought Clarke was being foolish, and that this would only end badly (which he agreed with her about, and not just because he was pretty sure he was still stupidly in love with her), but she knew that her friend wasn't going to change her mind. She just had to get used to the idea.

When they'd finished watching the first episode, Clarke looked around at all of them, their expressions ranging from horrified to grossed out to joy (from Jasper). She proclaimed, "The second one's better. I promise. It really picks up after that." 

When that didn’t work, she looked at Bellamy, who sighed, but said, “I’ll make all of you Moscow Mules if you let her continue with this hellscape.”

Murphy didn't want to agree, but he could make a killer cocktail, and even eventually he relented. 

"I'll help, if you want," Echo volunteered.

Bellamy nodded, a little absent-mindedly, and if Murphy didn’t know any better, he’d think that he didn’t _want_ her help. Which was kind of ridiculous. It intrigued him, to say the least, but he knew better than to call anyone on it. If only because he was still kind of afraid of Echo, sometimes. 

To her credit, Clarke didn’t even blink. Just stretched out a little on the couch now that Bellamy’s seat beside her had been vacated. Maybe things were getting better for her. She could actually be getting over him, which should’ve been an improvement over the disaster of her supposed undying love, really. But as much as he didn't want to be, he was kind of jealous. 

He knew it was a good thing for her to maybe let go of Bellamy. Since he was getting married and all. He knew that he should’ve wanted that for her as a friend. But where did that leave him? Stuck wanting someone who was never gonna want him, and losing his fuck buddy, and most likely dying alone, when he thought about it.

* * *

Clarke thought something was up with Bellamy and Echo, but she didn’t have any basis for it until a couple of minutes passed and they still hadn’t come out of the kitchen. 

Jasper and Monty started comparing their favorites from the show, and Harper intervened a couple of times to remind them both of their girlfriends were in the room. Maya quirked an eyebrow and Clarke laughed. But still, she couldn't shake the weird feeling she had about Bellamy. Like something really was wrong, even though he assured her that though he and Echo did get into a fight recently, it was all okay. 

When another minute passed and they still hadn’t come out, Clarke got up from her seat, unable to restrain herself anymore.

“Be right back,” she shot at Murphy. 

He shook his head, so slightly she barely saw it, and decided to pretend she hadn’t. He also mouthed the words, “fuck” and “no” and “masochist”. Not that any of that was new to her. She knew, okay? She was a mess and Echo and Bellamy were probably in there being cute and couple-y and kissing or something. But she just...Couldn’t stop herself, as bad as that sounded.

As she was entering the kitchen, she realized too late that Echo and Bellamy were definitely _not_ kissing.

“I really don’t understand why you can’t do this for me. I mean, come on, you’ve been stalling for weeks.” Echo was clearly exasperated over something. Her tone was harsher than Clarke had heard in months. Since before the engagement. 

“Look, I told you, I don’t think now is the right time,” Bellamy replied. 

“Then when is ‘the right time’?” she demanded. 

“I’m trying to—”

“You’re not trying though,” Echo argued. “At least, not for _me_.”

“What does that even mean?” he asked.

“I think you know exactly what I mean.”

They were having a fight. A bad one. 

Clarke’s eyes went wide as she realized her mistake, and she tried to backpedal her way out of the room, but before she could, the door banged against the frame. Damn it. Murphy’d been telling her to get that fixed for weeks. Echo looked over at her and squeezed her eyes shut. 

“I, um. I’m just gonna…” Clarke pointed a thumb behind her and started to make her retreat. 

“Wait, Clarke, one second,” Echo said. 

_Oh, fuck me,_ she thought. 

“I didn’t mean to…” She swallowed thickly and Bellamy gave her this panicked look and she didn’t know what to make of any of it. “I just came in to see if you needed help with the drinks. I’m so sorry, really. I’ll just…”

But Echo interrupted her before she could flee. “Actually, we need to talk to you about something.”

Clarke frowned and looked at Bellamy. “You do?”

“Echo,” he warned. “I really don’t think now is the right time to do this. Let me—”

“Bellamy’s moving out,” Echo said, before he could finish getting out whatever he was trying to say. 

“Oh,” she got out, her tone flat.

She didn’t know what else to say to that. To the way Echo had said it. 

“I mean,” Clarke tried to recover, “I knew that. After the wedding, right?” 

Because that’s what her and Bellamy had talked about. She was going to start looking for roommates about three months before the wedding. Their place was great, and she didn’t think she’d have any trouble finding a new roommate. It was going to suck, not living with him anymore, but it was the reality. 

“No,” Echo responded and Clarke looked fleetingly at Bellamy, who seemed pissed and upset. She thought he might say something, and hated how she was hurt when he didn’t. 

At least, until Echo stared him down pointedly.

“Um, I guess we were thinking by the end of next month,” he said.

Clarke sucked on her teeth. There were two options here. Either she could start a blow-out, or she could act like it didn’t even touch her. In the end, the choice was an easy one.

She waved a hand and gave a fake smile. One she’s sure they probably saw through, but that was half the fun of it. 

“Oh, absolutely no worries.”

“Clarke—” Bellamy started, his voice pained. She heard the regret and apology in it, but didn’t let it impact her. 

“Seriously,” Clarke continued. “It’s no problem _at all_. I totally get it. No big deal.”

But she felt like the world was ending. She'd known, of course, that Bellamy was going to move into Echo's place eventually. And now that she thought about it, it made a lot more sense to do so before the wedding. It wasn't outlandish or even something that should've caught her by surprise. That didn't make it hurt any less. He was leaving her. For his new life with the woman that was going to be his wife. Going to be the mother of his children. 

She was an idiot, really, for believing that things wouldn't change. Harper had been too damn right, which she shouldn't have been surprised by at all.

But she was still Clarke Griffin, and she wasn’t going to let these two see her break. No fucking way. 

So, she grabbed two drinks off of the counter and added, “Murphy’s gonna jump for joy. He’s been _dying_ to fuck in every room in the house for weeks.”

Clarke wanted to really take her time absorbing Echo and Bellamy’s expressions in reaction to that, but knew that she couldn’t. So, she gave them one last winning smile. Then she turned on her heel and left them behind. 

Her friends all jumped up when Bellamy and Echo came out a moment later with the rest of the drinks in order to claim theirs. She settled back down into a seat. Not in her previous one, where she’d been next to Bellamy, but now, beside Murphy. She pressed his drink in his hand and could feel Bellamy's eyes on her, but decided to ignore him.

"Fucking finally. Thanks for saving the day, Griffin," Murphy said, taking a sip from his glass.

"Okay.” Jackson nodded after a couple of minutes and long sips from his drink. “We can start the next round of torture now."

As the episode played though, she barely paid any attention to what was happening. She was stewing. She no longer just felt sad or hurt or whatever the hell mix of emotions she had for Bellamy at any given moment. She was pissed. At him. At Echo. At the way the whole situation was going down. In all of this, Bellamy’s engagement, she felt so powerless. There was nothing she could do, she thought miserably. 

But then, a thought of something she _could_ do came to her, and the minute it did, she knew she was going to do it.

"Hey Murphy," she said, not even bothering to whisper. Jasper, who actually happened to love the first episode, gestured to the screen. She cut him a smile but didn’t quiet down in the least. "Your lease is up in a week, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah, but I figured I'd just renew it. The devil you know, and everything." 

"Don't," she said, and she felt a smirk develop on her lips. "Move in with me."

That got everyone's attention, even though a fight was just about to break out on the show. 

"What?" he asked, grinning, like he thought she was just giving him shit and this was a joke. 

"Bellamy's moving out.”

Clarke still couldn't look over at Bellamy, though not seeing his reaction to this was kind of killing her.

“So,” she went on, “I don't see why not.” She looked around, her grin and tone becoming a little much, even for her. “I mean, the sound system is fucking epic, it's much closer to the restaurant, and the kitchen is way better than yours."

He paused for a moment, deciphering something that must've been etched onto her face, before he shrugged, and replied, "Alright. Sounds good to me."

For the first time since she'd come back from the kitchen, she let herself look at Bellamy. 

“You can be out by the end of the week, right?"

It took him a moment to recover, and before he was able to get out, "Uh, yeah, I mean it might be kind of a bitch, but—"

"Great.” She was really smirking now, she knew it.

She clinked her glass against Murphy's and took a long sip. It seemed that even though she'd already accepted she had lost the war, she still got a little thrill over winning a battle. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading ❤︎
> 
> find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)
> 
> [find the playlist here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5GqGLwbeDBNfqUp0iVjVqF?si=4zmbN270T-SOSPoj5TXF8w)


	10. Swing, Sucker, Swing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, lovelies!! this one is a *brand new* chapter for the rewrite of this fic, and I'm so excited to share it with you. it includes some new plot points and carries over and expands most of the same ones from the previous version. now, we are very much residents of angst city for the next couple of chapters, but despite that, I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> as always, feedback is so appreciated, but please keep any hate to yourself.
> 
> *chapter title is from 'Buttercup' by Hippo Campus*
> 
> sending love and good thoughts to you all 💞💞💞

About two weeks after Murphy moved in with Clarke, a week after the night Jasper referred to as, “The Incident,” whenever Clarke or Bellamy weren’t around (even after Murphy told him to quit it), they were at Grounders. Doing their absolute best to ignore two upcoming events that once seemed far away and now were doing the most to make everyone uncomfortable. 

One, Bellamy and Echo’s Engagement Dinner. Complete with her hoity-toity family from the ‘burbs who definitely didn’t think Bellamy was good enough, and so, they all disliked them on principle. Murphy didn’t get why they’d waited so long to do the dinner, but he never got the chance to ask Bellamy. He was too busy either glaring at Murphy or fighting with Echo. And the second, Abby’s birthday party at Clarke’s childhood home. Unfortunately for them, they were good friends, and agreed to all go to support her. 

Things amongst the whole group were tense. So much so that their weekly basketball games were now more like a battle of wits and strength, a constant, brutal competition with little loyalty for even one’s own team. The shit-talking worse than Murphy expected even from himself. Entire group get-togethers were awkward to say the least, with the bickering no longer bordering on familial and taking on whole new tones. Clarke and Bellamy were some of the worst that week while he moved out. They gave in and made up or some smarmy crap like that at some point, but Murphy practically saw the lingering tension. 

Take your pick for the reasons behind it. Abby. Him and Clarke. Echo and Bellamy. Raven and Shaw. Well, maybe that last one was wishful thinking on his part. But the guy had been ‘working late’ a lot, and that led to his imagination going wild with possibilities of him and Raven fighting. Enough that a break-up might’ve been imminent. Even though he knew that was unlikely, at least, thankfully, he didn’t have to see much of Shaw. Really, he didn’t want himself and Clarke included in that list, nor did he think it was exactly fair, but over the last week, he did sense that Bellamy and Raven were somehow ticked off about his new living situation. Which, in turn, ticked him off. 

After all, he didn’t think it was him being roommates with Clarke that was throwing things off balance. At least, not between him and Clarke. Living with her was easy. He'd expected much worse after experiencing her waking up without immediate access to coffee, but things were actually going really well. Despite her spurring the ‘suggestion’ on him without warning in what he now understood as a power move against Echo and Bellamy. 

They'd divided up household duties with ease. He cooked. She did the dishes. He vacuumed. She did the laundry. The only thing they really ‘fought’ over was which shows to watch. While he and Raven had superb taste, she enjoyed cheesy romantic comedies and bad reality TV. But other than the time she'd hit him with a pillow so hard he swore it left a mark, all because he dared to say that the two movies in the _To All the Boys I've Loved Before_ series weren’t that good, they hadn't disagreed much.

Echo and Bellamy weren't as lucky it seemed. They never really had an argument in front of everyone else, but rather, just made little comments that made them both residents of Passive Aggressive Land. Maybe even the king and queen, given how things had escalated lately. Miller had tried to get something out of him at basketball that previous weekend, but Bellamy wouldn't even entertain the idea of discussing it.

He just said, “It’s wedding stuff. It’ll blow over.”

Murphy snorted, because he was starting to highly doubt that. 

Although he knew it was a bad idea, he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Let me know if you want some tips from me or Clarke about relationships.” He grinned. “Since, _we’re_ doing our thing _perfectly_.”

As revenge, Bellamy ‘accidentally’ knocked him on the ground twice. And they were on the same damn team. No one had the balls to call him on it except for Lincoln. 

“Really?” he asked. “Are we five?”

Bellamy frowned an impressive amount in response and said, “It wasn’t on purpose.”

Which, of course, told everyone it was on purpose. As if it hadn’t already been obvious enough. 

No matter how much he knew Clarke protested it, wouldn’t even entertain the idea, he was starting to think Jasper and Monty and well, almost everyone else, was right about Bellamy having those kinds of feelings for Clarke. He really, really hoped he was wrong. Not because he wanted her to continue to suffer, but rather, because he knew nothing good was going to come from it. But the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to present itself. Like a volcano waiting to explode, and not a minor one, either. Like fucking Pompeii 2.0.

Sometimes, he wished he didn’t have to be so right all the goddamn time. 

Raven was in the middle of gloating about beating him at pool, and he was doing his best to not be too obvious. Which was becoming harder and harder, recently. He thought that by sleeping with Clarke he’d learn to get over her, that it would get easier to be around her. Maybe, one day, he would really only like her as a friend. But his feelings hadn’t subsided at all. If anything, they’d gotten worse. 

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in,” he said, dry. 

“I will,” she replied, at a volume an octave too loud. “Because,” and then she leaned in closer and he raised his brows to feign a casualness he didn’t think he possessed anymore when it came to her, “I. Am. Awesome.”

He rolled his eyes and poked at her shoulder. “Uh-huh. Sure. You’re speaking to the King of Bullshit, remember? I’m calling you on this.”

Of course, this only made her more stubborn in proving her point. “I am!” she protested. “I am so awesome that you probably cry about it into your pillow at night.” She might have been a little drunk, but endearingly so.

The thought made him want to throw up all over himself. Since when did he find _anything_ endearing?

“Cause that’s likely,” he recovered, proud of himself for keeping his voice even. She was still leaning in close. Enough that he could spell her conditioner a little. God. He was getting creepy, too, what a bonus. 

She gave him a dismissive wave of her hand. “Please,” she said, dragging out the word a ridiculous amount. “You think you’re so sly.”

Murphy swallowed thickly. If the jig was up...If Raven had any kind of inkling that he might have feelings for her that weren’t strictly platonic... _Fuck._

If that happened, he didn’t know what he’d do. How he’d navigate making sure his life didn’t go to complete shit. Sure, Raven and the others might play it off, try to make it less weird. But their attempts would only be too obvious, he knew it. Raven would’ve never talked to him like she did now, might’ve even stopped hanging out with him alone altogether. It was like that for a brief time post her and Wells’ break-up, and that had ended because it was only a fling, and neither one of them was ready for a serious relationship. Even with all of that, it had still taken a solid six months for Raven to be normal around him. The circumstances were different here. So much worse. If she knew, then everything was ruined. He could kiss their TV binges and dinners away, could completely write off nights at Grounders. Hell, it might’ve even had the power to kill Game Night. He probably wouldn’t ever see Raven again. 

In vain, he tried to clamber together a response. Something snide and cutting and a little bit gross. Anything to steer her off the path she was tipsily sauntering down. He didn’t know what would work though, and the longer he went without replying, the worse he knew it got. Her eyes went a little wide, brows furrowed, and her mouth parted a bit. She seemed as if she was going to ask something, which he dreaded, more than maybe anything in his entire life. He didn’t know if he had the strength to lie to her, which was the most terrible part about the whole thing. After so long, and feeling what he did for her...He was tired of hiding it. Of always denying himself even feeling what he was, and letting her know it, too. As bad as could tell it’d be if she knew the truth, he wondered if a piece of him wasn’t the smallest bit relieved that he might have to finally admit it to her. 

Murphy imagined what he’d say, and how he’d say it. Maybe he’d pull her out into the back of the bar, where there was a garden and a couple of tables usually occupied by smokers. He wouldn’t go full-cheesy love confession, but maybe just start with the fact that he wanted her like that.

The thoughts only lasted a moment before he was saved from having to do anything like that. 

He heard Clarke snort as she came over and handed him another beer. “Trust me, the only crying he does at night is about me and how hot I am.” 

He met her eyes and grinned. “Please, as if you don’t do the same thing.”

“Perhaps,” Clarke allowed, but followed it with, “but at least I don’t do it during sex.”

He laughed, and then turned back to Raven, who now had a hint of a scowl on her face. And something else, too. Disappointment? But he was sort of tipsy, too. It was difficult to tell. As soon as he thought he saw the expression, it was gone. 

“Sorry, ‘fraid she’s got me there,” he told Raven.

To her credit, she quipped back, “Just as I thought. You’re a total wailer in bed.” She smirked at Clarke. “I hope he’s making up for it somehow.”

Clarke laughed and clinked her glass against Raven’s bottle. “He is, don’t worry.”

Raven wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “No more details, I beg.”

Murphy had to jump in then. “My bad, don’t mean to turn you on out in public and everything.”

She rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder. What the hell had he been thinking before? He was so thankful to Clarke for making it so things could go back to normal. Maybe it wasn’t what he really wanted. Not even close, because what, or rather, who he wanted, was Raven. But she’d managed to make it so that he could keep being friends with her. So he didn’t do something idiotic like admit he loved her when she’d been with someone for more than a year and was probably gonna marry them and...Yeah, it was for the best Clarke interrupted the moment when she did. 

Of course, the moment was ruined only a few minutes later when Shaw walked in.

If he was being honest with himself, he knew Shaw was a good person. He treated Raven right and he seemed smarter than Murphy’d like to admit (smarter than him, truly) and he wasn’t a complete bore. He hated that he hated him. If only because it was actually sort of hard to do. 

“Hey,” he greeted. “What’s so funny?”

Raven swallowed and started to say nothing, but Clarke already got out, “Me and Murphy.”

“Oh,” he said, a bit flat.

“Just making fun of them. They’re chaos roommates, seriously. We’re all betting how long it lasts,” Raven said, though he didn’t know if it was the truth or not. “That’s all.” She smiled and took Shaw’s hand in hers. “You wanna get some air for a second?”

He nodded. “Sure.”

They walked off and Murphy wondered if there wasn’t more to it then what Raven’d said, if there was a reason she’d pulled Shaw away just as he got there. He didn’t ask when they came back in. Though he noticed Shaw and Raven steered clear of him after they did. 

A little later, Clarke stole Bellamy as her teammate for a tournament of pool, which pissed Echo off when he abandoned her as his original one. Clarke apologized and said she didn’t realize they planned to play together, but Echo insisted they play that round. She pretended like she wasn’t angry, but Murphy saw the silent exchange between Bellamy and her, and knew that he was gonna pay for it later on. Everyone picked up on it, too, and it made the whole game awkward.

Even Monty and Jasper weren’t as thrilled as they should’ve been when they took home the crown, which meant free beer for a month. Normally, it’d be a whole celebration. They still did their victory dance, but it seemed like their hearts weren’t in it. That was the problem with all of them, recently. Given how tense everything was, no one could really be themselves. Murphy felt a tiny bit bad about that since he figured a piece of it was due to his sex life. But it was _his_ sex life. He didn’t get it before he moved in with Clarke and he definitely didn’t get it now. Especially from Raven. She knew him, knew what he was like. Why start judging him for it now, of all times?

Then Shaw told them right after they just got a new round, “Me and Raven are gonna head out. It was good seeing you all.”

Though he knew by his tone that he didn’t mean the last part at all. It was no secret Shaw didn’t really like any of them, but it was different for him to basically say it directly to their faces. In particular, Echo stiffened. They’d once had a massive blow-out, though everyone did their best to pretend it never happened. 

Murphy was on his way to drunk, and well, he did stupid things on that road. Like what he did next. That was a _really_ stupid thing. 

“What’s up with you making sure the two of you bail every time you’re within spitting distance of us?” He ignored the warning look that Monty shot him and went on, “Are we that upsetting to your many, many functional brain cells?”

Raven was visibly uncomfortable, fidgeting a little and adjusting her weight on her leg. The smart part of him understood he was making a major fuck up, but given everything that was going on...Raven’s clear, yet confusing, annoyance at him and Clarke living together. His feelings for her. How nothing had felt right in the group for weeks. The Bellamy and Clarke fuckery. It had all been bottling up, and he chose this gloriously badly-timed moment to let it out. 

Shaw looked at Raven, who tugged on his hand a little, but ignored her. Staring him down, it occurred to him that this wasn’t just going to go away. That, unlike the dozens of little fights the whole group had been in during the recent weeks, this wasn’t nothing. In ways he was unsure about, he’d struck something true with Shaw. 

Awesome. Murphy’d really done it now. 

Grinning a bit, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was doing this, Shaw looked around at the rest of them before his eyes landed back on Murphy. “Oh, I don’t know? Maybe it’s the way none of you seem to know the definition of a grown-up? Or how you all are so codependent you think I spend my time hating you just because I don’t want to spend every-waking second with you all.” 

He scoffed and Murphy figured he might’ve been done, but then he added, “I feel like there’s really no point in me even pointing out the dumpster fire that is your relationships with one another, platonic or otherwise.” At that, he cut a look at Clarke, but it happened so fast Murphy could only hope that no one noticed how she paled. 

Then he narrowed his eyes and contemplated something for a moment before finishing his grand little speech with, “And the way you just seem to not be able to help yourself when it comes to flirting with my girlfriend.”

The first part didn’t bother him, didn’t even make him think that he had a chance at being right. People had judged the group before, had given them enough crap that they’d all learned to tune it out. Every time, he’d never believed it. Not when it’d been professors in college, and not out in the ‘real world’ either. 

But the way Shaw had looked at Clarke with the ‘platonic’ comment...Jesus, was he really trying to ruin their lives? Didn’t he see that Bellamy and Clarke and Echo were teetering on a very dangerous edge. All it’d take is a small gust of wind or, hell, maybe even just a feather, to send them careening off the edge. Into what kind of depths, he didn’t even want to imagine. So yeah, that pissed him off. If only because since he and Clarke had gotten closer than he’d ever imagined they would, and not just in a physical way, he recognized he wanted what was best for her, he wanted her to be happy. And Bellamy figuring things out _like this_? From Shaw, of all people? Definitely was not it. 

All of that kept him from confronting the last bit though, the words he definitely wasn’t ready to hear alone, and definitely not with an audience. Especially with Raven as part of that audience. He’d thought he’d been playing it pretty well. That the only person who knew how he felt about her was Clarke. Stupidly, he now saw, he thought he was safe. With Shaw’s remark hanging over him, he knew better. Now, everything was going to go to shit. So, he figured he might as well enjoy the ride. 

No one else had even moved to reply. 

“Shaw let’s—” Raven started, but Murphy cut her off. 

“Really, outstanding work there, my friend,” Murphy said, clapping slowly, with enough dramatics it might’ve been too much for even him. He finished clapping and walked over to Shaw and Raven, pointing a finger at him as he went. “I’m quite impressed. Really didn’t think you had it in you.”

Shaw glared. “You done?”

Murphy scoffed. “Not even close.”

“Murphy, please,” Raven got out. “Just let it go.”

He didn’t know if she’d ever asked him anything like that. Her voice pleading, if only slightly. Only as much as he could’ve ever expected from her. For a moment, it made him pause, but then he remembered how everything was still shit, and he forced the hesitation down. 

“Sorry, babe, no can do.” He flashed her smile and then turned back to Shaw. 

“And sorry to burst that thought bubble you had going about theories about all of us, but if I really was flirting with Raven, you’d know.”

Shaw looked over at Raven, who again, had this warning and simultaneously angry look on her face, before he turned back to Murphy. 

“And is that so?” Shaw got a little closer to him, not backing down either. “How is that?”

Murphy didn’t bother sneaking a look at Raven this time. Or anyone else, for that matter. He knew if he did, he probably wouldn’t have said what he did next. 

“Because then I would be fucking your girlfriend.”

A stillness settled over everyone, but not a calm, quiet one. More like the eye of a storm. Like the moment right before the roof got ripped off its hinges. A dangerous one. Murphy didn’t know what was going to happen next, but he was betting it wouldn’t be anything good. He continued to force himself to acknowledge whatever look Raven had on her face. To keep his eyes trained on Shaw and the rage that he knew was bubbling up inside him. For a second, he wondered if nothing was actually going to happen, and he almost hated it, because it meant that Shaw was certainly a better man than Murphy ever would be. 

But then Shaw punched him in the face, and he went down, and damn, if it didn’t hurt like a motherfucker. 

“What the fuck?” he heard Clarke ask.

“Seriously?” Murphy got out as she rushed over to make sure he was alright, already inspecting the area around his eye. He waved her off. “I’m fine. Dude hits like Jasper.”

He heard Jasper make a sound of protest at that, but still, the only person who had moved or said anything was Clarke. He wondered if everyone else was too shocked. Or just knew that whatever they could’ve said wouldn’t have done any good. 

She was bending down by his side and helped him stand. He glared at Shaw, who was holding his hand. “Nice to know you’re _so_ much more mature than the rest of us. A real grown up, I applaud you.”

Shaw seethed at that, and if it wasn’t for Raven’s hand on his shoulder, he probably would’ve hit Murphy again.

“God, Murphy, you just couldn’t leave it, could you?” Raven asked, shaking her head. Like it’s all his fault. Like Shaw didn’t...Whatever. He didn’t care. Not anymore. 

“Come on,” Clarke defended him. “You know it wasn’t all him.” At that, she shot an icy look at Shaw, who did seem to have some regrets, now that they weren’t up in each other’s spaces. 

“Are you kidding?” Raven seemed shocked, as did Bellamy, when he met his eye. No one believed that Clarke was taking his side in all this, but Murphy wasn’t, for some reason, even though he knew he didn’t really deserve it. 

“Did you not hear what he said?” She nodded to Shaw and then stuck out her chin. “You really had the guts to insult all of us and then expect nothing to happen?”  
  


“But Murphy—” Bellamy started.

Clarke narrowed her eyes at him and went to interrupt, but then they were all quieted. 

“I will sick the bouncer on you all if you don’t get out right now!” the bartender threatened. 

So, they all moved outside. Shaw and Murphy still stewing, everyone else probably hoping that they’d both get a grip. All of them thinking that the chances of that weren’t anywhere near likely. Luckily, it seemed Harper at least had a plan for that.

“I swear if anyone hits anyone else, or even thinks about it, I _will_ let Emori knock you all on your asses, and you all know she could do it without breaking a sweat,” Harper got out, breathless with anger. 

Emori shrugged beside her and grinned a little. 

“Let’s just go,” Raven told Shaw as soon as they were all collected in front of the bar’s entrance.

Murphy’s face still hurt like a bitch, but the accusing glance she gave him hurt more. 

“Fine,” Shaw replied. Then he pointed a finger at Murphy. “Get your shit together, asshole.”

Murphy went to move forward, but Clarke placed a hand on his arm. Behind her, he saw how Bellamy flinched a little at it. Especially when Murphy relaxed and gave in. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Clarke asked again, worry etched between her brows. 

He dismissed it. “I’m fine.” He shook his head and knew she didn’t buy it, but he repeated it regardless, trying to convince himself. He watched as Raven shot one more look at him over her shoulder and then disappeared around the corner. “I’m just fine.”

* * *

Bellamy didn’t know where his mind was these days, so when Echo had to go away for a night for work, and Raven offered to come get drunk with him, he took her up on it almost as soon as she got the words out. 

“I need to start drinking now,” Raven said as a greeting as she breezed through his apartment, setting down an alarmingly large bottle of whiskey on the kitchen counter. 

“Alright.” Bellamy coughed. “You wanna talk about, the, uh…” he trailed off. 

The fight between Murphy and Shaw had only happened two days ago. No one really talked about it, but it was there, in every text exchange or interaction. As far as he knew, Raven was blowing off Murphy. In fact, tonight she was meant to spend it watching TV with him, but texted him an hour ago and told him she had to watch her neighbor’s cat. Which was a blatant lie that Murphy would clearly detect. Raven and her neighbors had been in a years long war since the day she moved in. Which included said neighbor having said cat pee on Raven’s door. Bellamy didn’t even understand how that was possible. 

“No, of course not,” Raven fired back. “The absolute last thing I want to talk about is how my boyfriend punched Murphy in the face at our bar.” 

She got down two glasses and poured a healthy amount of whiskey into each one, and then gave him a pointed look. “Do _you_ want to talk about how Clarke and Murphy are living together and have most definitely fucked where you used to sleep?”

He grimaced, and didn’t even have to answer.

“That’s what I thought,” she replied. “So, don’t ask me if I wanna talk about their stupid fight.”

He nodded. “Fair enough.”

They drank for a while and started to catch up, but then she looked around the apartment for a second, thinking something he couldn’t even guess at. 

“What?” he asked.

Raven laughed. “It’s nothing.” He rolled his eyes, and she relented, “I’m sorry it’s just...Where’s all your stuff?”

He frowned and nodded to the bookshelf where a couple of paperbacks and hardcovers now lived where there used to be some weird clay bowls Echo’s mother made for her. “I’ve got stuff here.”

She snorted. “Ah, yes, that must be...What? A seventh of your total book collection? Seriously, where’s all your shit? Like your games and that horrible painting Clarke did of us during Spring Fling when we were all wasted and...I don’t know.” She shrugged. “It just doesn’t feel very _Bellamy_ in here.”

“Echo had it all decorated since when she lived here alone, I didn’t wanna intrude,” he dismissed, though he knew the whole truth held a bit more complications. “Though…I’m trying to pick my battles.” He knew it was a bad idea to admit to it, but he did anyway. “She doesn’t want Clarke to come to our Engagement Dinner. We fought, it’s...I would never agree to that, but she’s pissed.”

“Didn’t want to intrude in your own home?” Raven shook her head, not buying it even a little. When the other confession lingered in the air, she rolled her eyes. 

“I’m not surprised, given everything, but that’s...Screwed up, to say the least. At least you stood your ground though…” she trailed off and he figured she was done, but then she added, “What are you two even doing?”

At that, he felt defensive. Not just because he did love Echo and was doing his best to build a life with her and thinking of anything else never ended well for him. But also...Who was she to ask _that_ question?

“What are you doing with Shaw?” he got out before he could convince himself to shut up about it and move on to something else. 

She sucked on her teeth. “Shaw and I aren’t getting married.”

He snorted. “Like it’s that different. You’ve been together for almost a year and half. You’re as committed as it gets. Hell, have you two talked about it? Marriage?”

She stared down her whiskey glass for a moment before draining it. He already had his answer, but she still responded anyway, “Maybe he’s brought it up.”

He gave her an unimpressed look. “So, maybe don’t go judging me for my relationship status.” 

He then realized that he hadn’t argued against Raven’s point. Or even gone to answer her, really. He felt ashamed and awful and was probably the worst fiancé in the world. Now, it was too late to go back and speak all the words he wanted to. How he did his best to make Echo happy and he felt safe with her and how he really did want to have a good life with her, to _give_ her a good life. Besides, he knew where this conversation was going and what Raven was hinting at and it didn’t make any sense. Not when she or anyone else did it. Because he didn’t love Clarke like that, and she didn’t love him like that, either. They were Bellamy and Clarke, yes, but they weren’t Bellamy _and_ Clarke.

He changed the subject, and for a while, they listened to music and talked about work and hung out. It felt easy and simple and he almost forgot about the tension of their first topic. If he was being honest with himself, the tension he’d been holding in since he walked in on Clarke and Murphy in her bedroom. 

Then Raven surprised him. 

“Do you think they’re ever gonna stop?” she asked, giving him this stare that was at once questioning and desperate and angry. 

He didn’t have to ask her to elaborate who she meant. 

Part of him knew he should’ve brushed it off, but if Raven really wanted to discuss it, then maybe he owed it to her as a friend to let her. For her own sake, of course. Maybe talking it through would make it easier. As much as he didn’t want to think about it, it might’ve made it easier for _both_ of them. 

It took him a while to collect an answer together, and even when he did, it was hardly anything. 

“I don’t know.” He rubbed a hand over his face and groaned. “I mean, statistically, they should. It’s still just sex, right?”

If he was looking to find confirmation in Raven eye’s, it wasn’t there. _Unfortunately_ , he found himself thinking, which made him feel like a shitty friend. Instead, the look there confirmed something that he’d been thinking since Clarke asked Murphy to move in with her. Hell, if he was being honest with himself, maybe even before that. 

Clarke and Murphy weren’t just sleeping together anymore. 

He felt like he was going to be sick about it. What made him an asshole is that he knew he should’ve been happy for her, and for him. They were his some of his closest friends, and they were clearly happy. But the more they looked like a real couple, the worse he felt. A slow, steady ache in his chest. One that he couldn’t get rid of, no matter how hard he tried, and one that refused to leave him, even when they weren’t even in the room. 

“I’m such a bitch,” Raven said quickly. 

Bellamy shot her a questioning look, and she went on, “I hate it. I hate that they’re…Doing whatever it is that they’re doing. The longer it goes on, the more I want to throttle both of them, and then myself for even thinking about it. I should be supportive and make fun of them and hope it doesn’t implode the whole group. Which,” she gestured with a hand, “I am pissed that it _hasn’t_! Can you believe that? I am ticked off at my friends because their relationship hasn’t impacted everyone in a negative way. That’s diabolical.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry I’m being like this. There’s something wrong with me.”

He swallowed and tried to tell himself that he didn’t feel the same. The more he pushed back against the idea though, the more he saw it clearly for what it all was. Denial and kidding himself and a hundred other dismissals that weren’t going to do him any good while talking about it with Raven. There was no denying how much he disliked Clarke and Murphy sleeping together. Even when he wasn’t completely sure what all those reasons for it were. Most of it, he told himself, was worry for Clarke. Concern that she’d get hurt or somehow end up with another shitty deal. Then there was the fact that he wanted Murphy to actually be with someone who understood him and balanced him out. That had it be it, right? Or maybe...Fuck. Maybe Bellamy had to confront some hard truths about himself. About what he felt. For now though, he couldn’t do it. He focused on replying to Raven instead, because at least he knew now that he wasn’t alone in feeling like this. 

“If there’s something wrong with you, then there’s _absolutely_ something wrong with me,” he replied. “Because I feel the same. Hell, I’m not sure what’s a bigger mess. Them sleeping together or us feeling like _this about_ it.”

“Dammit,” she spit out. “I was hoping you were going to tell me I was being a horrendous human being and needed a reality check.” 

She waved a hand and seemed more upset as she spoke. “And I can’t believe I just said I need a reality check. As a twenty-eight year old. Please, Bellamy, tell me I’ve lost it and you have no idea what I’m feeling.” She looked at him and raised her glass before taking a long sip. “Save yourself.”

Sighing, he responded, “Afraid not, and I really don’t think I’m gonna be able to get myself out of this one.”

Twirling his glass a little, he tipped the glass back and drained it. “Wanna get wasted and rant about them?” he asked.

She pretended to contemplate it, but he already knew her answer was ‘yes’ when she said, “Oh, for fucking sure.”

They spent the next two hours drinking and shit talking and going off on tangents that either had no end or no logical conclusion. Bellamy didn’t remember a time when he’d been this honest with anyone about the situation since it started. It was nothing compared to the mini-rants he went off about at basketball when Murphy wasn’t there. With Raven, he was able to let it all go. Every ugly and unfair thought, and she never failed to meet him where he was at and match him with one of her own. 

“Shit,” he let out. “I mean...They’re just so…”

“Exactly!” Raven pointed her glass at him. “Those assholes.”

Though, they both knew, _they_ were the assholes. Even though he hadn’t even finished the sentence, it really did seem like she knew what he meant, even if he didn’t. It was the best night he’d had in weeks. The most free he’d felt in however long. Finally, he didn’t have to push everything down and ignore it. But the more he let out, the more the realization threatened to come crashing through. One that he knew if he ever faced, nothing was ever going to be the same. Lucky for him, the whiskey took control and made it so he didn’t have to deal with it. Not that night, at least. 

* * *

Echo texted Clarke the day before the Engagement Dinner and asked if she could come over and they could talk after work, just the two of them. Her heart plummeted into her stomach with a dread she couldn’t place. But as soon as Echo and her started talking, she knew it hadn’t been paranoia or her imagination. She should’ve prepared herself even more, considering where things went. 

Echo paused after finishing talking about her most recent work project. “I guess, you sort of know by now I came over here to talk about Bellamy and us and...The whole situation.”

Clarke had suspected, but wasn’t positive. Now that it was in front of her, she couldn’t help but ask, “Is something wrong? I mean, did I do something? Or if it’s Bellamy and you, I can always talk to him. I can’t promise anything, of course, but if I need to be there for him then...”

She didn’t know how to finish that sentence, and Echo didn’t help her. 

Echo hesitated before replying, “Yeah, it’s well...I guess Bellamy’s been so weird since you and Murphy started your thing. I sort of thought, for a second, that he was jealous?” 

Clarke swallowed, she had hoped it was just her imagining things where she wanted them to be. 

Echo straightened her back and seemed to decide something. “I just need to know. Did anything ever happen between you and Bellamy?”

Clarke blinked rapidly and started to protest but she saw how it registered on Echo’s face. There was no hiding from this. No more acting like it was a weird, drunken dream or pretending it didn’t happen, or that it didn’t mean anything to her, as she had done for all these years. She had to tell her what happened on Halloween after Gina and Bellamy broke up. When she thought she’d been so clear in what she wanted, but something clearly was off in how she’d done it. 

“Okay, so, yes.” She let out a breath. “But it doesn’t matter, really. It was _years_ ago and I don’t think he even remembers it or if he does he’s never brought it up because he doesn’t want to embarrass me and make things weird and—”

“Clarke,” Echo stopped her. She sighed. “Tell me what happened. Please?”

* * *

Bellamy didn’t even want to go to the party, moping over Gina breaking up with him for reasons he wouldn’t even tell anyone. Clarke made him go though, showing up half-drunk at his shitty apartment he shared with Miller. When Miller told him he was bailing, she made the ten minute walk in the bitter cold, stubborn as hell that he was going to have a good time with their friends. She asked Miller to come with, but for some reason, he laughed and said it’d work better if it was just her. Which she still didn’t understand, even later on and sober. 

She felt better about forcing him to return with her to the party once they got there and he genuinely seemed to enjoy himself and let loose, smiling without unease for the first time in weeks. It’d been an awkward semester for a lot of them, and Clarke was still adjusting to coming back from her time abroad. Her time away from all of them, for reasons they still tip-toed around. 

The night was fun though, easy. 

After a round each of flip cup and beer pong, Clarke and Bellamy went out to drunkenly smoke together. She kept pestering him to quit but he did the same thing with her, so in the end, they usually smoked together. 

He was wearing purple fairy wings they’d picked up at a dollar store on the way over to Murphy’s place. Since, according to her earlier, he had to have a costume. She liked the fairy wings, though. A bit of the glitter from them had gotten on his cheeks and she didn’t realize she’d been staring at him for far too long than was acceptable until he laughed. 

“What is it?” he asked. 

She huffed out a laugh, trying to cover for herself. “I…It’s nothing.”

Though she wasn’t sure why she had to pretend otherwise. Everyone knew Bellamy was beautiful. 

As soon as the thought lodged its way in her mind, she couldn’t dismiss it. She thought during her first weeks back from abroad that her and Bellamy could never be that. Or that even if she wanted it, it didn’t mean he did. 

“Clarke?” He licked his lips and her eyes went right to it and she knew he noticed. 

Her cheeks heated up and she bit her lip, trying to control herself. 

But he was looking at her, in her Zombie Doctor costume and it didn’t feel like the way a friend looked at another friend. It felt...Electric and special and _them_ and she didn’t want to pretend that she didn’t have feelings for Bellamy anymore. Not when he was here and close and single and so freaking kissable it hurt. 

She leaned up and placed her hands on his broad shoulders to steady herself. Then she kissed him, briefly, just the once. She backed away fast, and looked up at him, sure that her question hung between them without the words themselves. 

When he didn’t say or do anything, she started to lose her confidence, but as soon as she went to get out some apology, he closed the space between them and kissed her. Stubborn and hot and fearless and so him that she almost wanted to break away just to tell him how much she wanted him. For how long they kissed, she didn’t know. Just that she opened her mouth under the pressure of his and her hands gripped onto his shoulders as his own wrapped around her waist. It felt like they’d been doing this forever, and in some part of her mind, she wondered why they hadn’t been. 

Bellamy moaned a guttural, “Clarke,” against her lips that had all of her nerves buzzing. 

More, more, more. No matter how much of this she got, it was never going to be enough.

As quickly as this magical thing began though, it ended when Monty stumbled out back through the screen door. Luckily, her and Bellamy broke apart before he took in what was before him. Or at least, enough that it wouldn’t have been easy to tell. They hugged a lot, after all. 

“I found you!” he burst out. “Guys Murphy’s gonna try and do a trick on his mountain bike. Raven even made a ramp out of the beer bottles and Miller dared him to do a flip!” 

Clarke looked at Bellamy, who did seem dazed, like he couldn’t be sure he was even awake. She knew the feeling, and was pretty sure she was experiencing it herself in that moment. 

She touched his arm. “Come on, let’s make sure they don’t do irreparable damage to themselves.”

He laughed, a moment later than she expected him to, and nodded. The rest of the night, they didn’t get a chance to be alone together. But Clarke thought as she fell asleep that there was going to be time. That they would figure everything out. 

When morning came, Bellamy greeted her in the kitchen and pressed a mug of coffee and two Advil into her hands. She realized that nothing had changed, that he was treating her like it was the same as it’d always been between them. Like the kiss never happened. And after a while, it felt like that, too. 

* * *

“See?” Clarke asked. 

And yeah, she did leave out all her mushy feelings about the moment and how hot the kiss had been, but really, that was both of their sakes. And maybe Bellamy’s, too. 

“It really didn’t mean anything, okay? Bellamy and I are just friends.”

Echo bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Clarke. Thank you for telling me but...I think it’s best if you don’t come to the dinner tomorrow.”

“What?” she asked, unable to believe it, for a moment, she allowed herself to think it was a joke. “I’m the best woman. I have to be there.”

Nodding, Echo continued, “Murphy either. Bellamy and I have been talking about it and it’s...Too much. It’s been too weird recently with everything between the whole group and we don’t want it messing with the wedding stuff. I’m hoping things will get better in time for the wedding, but…” 

She swallowed. “I’m sorry, I really am. But for now, I think it’s best if there was some separation. Bellamy does, too.”

“Then why wouldn’t _Bellamy_ tell me himself?” Clarke demanded, hating her tone but unable to clamp down on it, unable to believe that he’d do this to her. 

Echo looked at her sadly, as if Clarke was a kicked kitten, which made her suck on her teeth to hold in her rage. 

“You know why, Clarke. He feels awful, more than I can really say. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He cares about you so much. Since you are his best friend.” 

She put a bit more emphasis on ‘best friend’ than Clarke thought was necessary, but she supposed she deserved it, after the story she’d just told her. 

“But he does think it’s the only solution there really is, for right now.”

Clarke wanted to fight. For herself, for Murphy. For the sanctity of her relationship with Bellamy. She geared herself up for it for a second. The only thing that made her realize she couldn’t was the idea that _Bellamy_ didn’t want her at the party. That he wanted space from _her_. It hurt so fiercely she didn’t know if she’d ever get over it, if it was ever going to go away. She felt her throat close up and her whole body hurt with the thoughts of how Bellamy thought of her now to get to this place. 

But if he wanted to be this way, if he and Echo really thought her and Murphy were so _poisonous_ they didn’t even want them around to celebrate their goddamn wedding. Well, then. Fuck them. 

“You know what?” Clarke shook her head, clearing it of all plans to defend herself and Murphy and even Bellamy. “Don’t be sorry. In fact, Murphy and I are gonna have a great fucking time without all of you, so really, it’s no big deal.”

“Clarke—” Echo began, seeming like she didn’t understand the words her impact had, but Clarke didn’t give her an inch. 

“Really. I. Don’t. Care. And I’m sure Murphy will be relieved. He hates those kinds of things, they’re such tedious bullshit, you know?”

Echo blinked at her, confused, and seemed to be at a loss for words. Good. Clarke had enough of them for today. 

She offered Echo a bright smile. “Now, I think it’s time for you to go.”

The minute Clarke gave one last fake-cheery smile and a little wave to her, and literally almost slammed the door on her ass, she went to the bathroom, expecting to break down. Just as she felt it coming though, she looked at herself and hated how weak she felt. Hell no. 

She was not going to cry over this. If this was the end of her and Bellamy, then so be it. 

Murphy found her spread out on the couch, cheese dust from a nearby gallon tub of cheese balls all over her t-shirt. In the middle of a marathon of _The Bachelorette_ and a bottle of red wine deep. 

It seemed that being over her and Bellamy’s friendship was easier said than done. 

“Oh, God,” he let out. “What did Bellamy do now?”

Clarke managed to sit up a little, which was no small feat. “He doesn’t want me anymore.”

Murphy frowned. “What are you talking about? What happened?”

“Echo came over.” She shook her head, and then explained the whole conversation. She had never told him about Halloween, but now the people who knew what happened grew to three. 

When she finished telling him all of it, including the part where Bellamy and Echo didn’t want either one of them at the Engagement Dinner, he sat down on the couch and let out, “Fucking hell.”

She let a few tears fall. Too upset to bother to be embarrassed by it. 

“I lost him, Murphy. I lost him and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

He was pissed, she could sense it, but he still told her, “It’s gonna be okay. God,” he went on, “this is some bullshit. But I swear, it’ll be okay.” 

She had no idea how that was possible. 

“And you know what?” he asked after a moment. 

She frowned, but then he got this look on his face. Clarke was sort of scared of what it meant. When he answered his own question, she knew she had been right to be.  
  


“We are _so_ going to that fucking dinner.”

She gaped at him and hoped it was a joke, but she knew that it wasn’t. More than that, she knew that regardless of how she wanted to fight it, she was going to agree with him. 

He shoved her shoulder a little. “Come on, it’ll be _fun_.”

She huffed out, “I highly doubt that since we’re not even invited now. You didn’t hear everything Echo told me. Neither one of them wants us there. In fact, they probably don’t even want to be friends anymore.”

He allowed this, but still was resolute in the idea. “You’re right. It won’t be fun for anyone else. It might actually be their own personal Hell, but it will be fun for the two of us. And I think...We deserve some fun.” 

He lifted a brow, mischievous and conniving and everything she needed so she didn’t have to face the fact that even after everything, she still lost Bellamy. “So, what do you say Bonnie?”

She rolled her eyes and for a second she imagined shooting it down. That she really was intent on spending the night of the Engagement Dinner alone with as many kinds of junk food as she could get and numerous bottles of wine. Plus, crying. Lots and lots of crying. As she considered it though, she knew how she really wanted to spend her night, even if it was one of the stupidest things she’d ever done, or would ever do. 

“Fuck it,” she replied. “I’m in, Clyde.”

Murphy grinned. 

They were definitely going to regret this, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading ❤︎
> 
> find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)
> 
> [find the playlist here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5GqGLwbeDBNfqUp0iVjVqF?si=X03FY_DgQBuXHmfuM5xwxg)


	11. It's Not Your Brain, It's Just the Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, lovelies! sorry for a bit of a delay with this one, but it's a monster of feelings and drama and realizations, and I really wanted to get it right. 
> 
> some housekeeping notes:
> 
> -originally, this chapter and the next one were meant to be just one, but as I was writing and editing, I saw that it was gonna be such a long one and so full of important events, that I needed to split it. I hope it's understandable and the pacing feels alright, and I will do my best to have the follow-up posted as soon as I can. 
> 
> -a commenter on another fic asked for the playlist link to be in the beginning notes, so I'll be doing that across my stories now.
> 
> -you might've noticed I added a whole seven chapters lmao. I posted the original length just to give some general idea, but I've really been going through my outline and think this is a better reflection. I wanted to update now rather than later. the number might shift one or two in either direction, but this is more around the final count. 
> 
> I want to thank you all so much for the lovely feedback. I read every comment and it means so much to me that people take the time to leave kudos or some kinds words, let alone just reading it. you're all wonderful. 
> 
> *chapter title is from 'Fame' by David Bowie-which I really recommend listening to when Clarke and Murphy make their entrance because it's all I could think about while writing the scene*
> 
> [find the playlist here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5GqGLwbeDBNfqUp0iVjVqF?si=OxmPiHClRveWYEvPIvP_2Q)
> 
> sending all the love and good thoughts to you amazing readers 💞💞💞

Bellamy was freaking out, and it had nothing to do with the fact that Echo’s parents had already made no less than three weird remarks about his job, his family, and his ability to provide for their daughter to his face. In that order, and rising with icy intensity with each one. 

Rather, it was because Clarke wouldn’t text him back. 

Or call him back. Or answer any of the various forms of communication he tried. He even went to Snapchat, which he only made drunk and under duress, but to no avail. 

The dinner was going to start soon, and she wasn’t at the restaurant yet. The private room Echo picked out for them to rent decked out to the nines complete with an outdoor patio. It was a bit much for him, but she told him her parents had it covered. He went with it because he figured she got to have what she wanted since she was the bride and all. 

He couldn’t remember a time when he and Clarke went more than a day without exchanging at least a text. He was worried, more than anything else. She could be hurt or something could’ve happened. Maybe something with Abby. If that was the case, he wanted to be there for her. After she still didn’t reply, he went to Murphy, but was dodged just as severely. It was then that he started to think that the two of them were avoiding him. 

As the cocktail hour was starting, he really started to lose it, and became sure that they were actively not responding to his messages. 

“Bellamy, this _is_ like them. I mean, can you really be surprised?” Echo asked over Moscow Mules and a dismissal in her tone he’d never heard from her when it came to their friends.

Yes, alright, he knew Clarke and Echo weren’t exactly close, which he blamed himself for, really, but still. They’d known each other so long. He thought she’d at least share his worries too. 

He shook his head. “They wouldn’t bail. Something’s wrong.” He huffed. “If only they would freaking text me back, then I would know how to help.” He looked down at his phone, willing a message from Clarke to appear. It didn’t. 

“Where is the cockroach?” Emori came over to them. “He owes me twenty bucks for being late to a group event.”

Bellamy cut a look at Echo. “We don’t know. He obviously hasn’t shown yet, and won’t answer any of my calls.”

To that, Emori snorted. “I’ll handle it.” She pulled out her phone with her hand and typed out a quick message.

“I doubt he’s going to—” Bellamy started, but was interrupted by her phone dinging.

Emori smirked for a moment, but the expression disappeared as soon as she read whatever Murphy’s text said. Then she looked up at Echo and narrowed her eyes. Echo didn’t admit anything, though did seem vaguely uncomfortable. Then she steeled her face into one he recognized well, ready to be on the defensive. 

“What is it?” Bellamy asked. “What did he tell you? Is something wrong? Did Abby…” he trailed off, unsure where he was going with the sentence. “What did he say?”

All concern and dread in his tone. He felt he already knew what Emori was going to say before she even got out a word by the look on her face. It filled him with anger and disdain and a hot burn of betrayal. 

Emori sucked on her teeth. “He said, ‘Fucking ask Echo.’” She shook her head in disbelief. “Did you do this on purpose?” she demanded, still staring Echo down.

He met Echo’s eye and now she did look a little guilty. “Bellamy—” she began, but he cut her off.

“You didn’t,” he said, flat, unable to believe that she would’ve gone behind his back like this, yet understanding that, of course, she had. That she not only chose to be cruel to him, but to Clarke and Murphy. That she actually willingly lied to him and said that they wanted to blow off the night, when really, she’d been the one to orchestrate it. 

“I did the right thing,” she maintained, her voice resolute despite the way her eyes gave her away. “You might think that them being here is important or for the best or keeping things how they need to be. As if that even exists these days. You have to know that I did what I needed to. For us. For you.”

“Are fucking kidding me?” Bellamy burst out before he thought better of it. 

Emori crossed her arms over her chest, and kept glowering. At least he knew where she stood. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for him to keep going. 

“You sure as hell didn’t do this for _me_ because if you did, you would’ve known that no matter how weird things have been, I never wanted this.” 

He ran a hand over his mouth, finding that he was more enraged that he initially thought. All he could think about was the pain Echo had caused, and that she didn’t even seem to care. That she thought it was the right thing to do.

“Hell, we _talked about this_ ,” he got out, “and I said, ‘Absolutely not,’ remember? It was pretty damn clear that the last thing I wanted or _needed_ was to disinvite my best friend from a celebration of my damn engagement.”

Echo opened her mouth to respond, but Emori beat her to it.

“Seriously? Is this what it comes down to? Petty lies and ignoring everything? Taking it out on your friends who have done nothing wrong? All so you can connive your way to secure whatever happy ending you think is still gonna happen?” 

It felt nice to have the slight back up. Even if Emori was insinuating that he and Echo were already done, somehow. That their relationship had an expiration date to begin with. Even though she didn’t say it, he felt he knew why. After all, she might’ve not said it, but it was clear she meant that Bellamy, and maybe Raven, too, (though he couldn’t give her the blame he felt for himself) were the real reason everything was falling apart. 

Part of him told himself that that wasn’t the truth, but he couldn’t deny it anymore, finding in the light of Echo’s actions, hiding from it was no longer an option. It scared him, truly, down to the core of who he thought he was and the reality of who he’d been the last few months. That he might’ve been wrong about it all. Everything he felt and everything he’d done. The possible mistakes and damage he’d done made it impossible for him to breathe. 

But then he thought again of what Echo had done, without his permission, without thinking of the consequences, and he let his anger take control once more. 

When the fight first started, Bellamy felt a distinct fear he might’ve been overreacting. Or that Echo might’ve actually had a point or valid reasons for doing what she did. Even if it didn’t change the situation, to know that he was right to be pissed off felt good. Emori’s confirmation of it made him more willing to go to bat against Echo. To defend his relationships with Clarke and Murphy, as fractured as they’d been. 

“It’s my engagement, too,” Echo almost seethed. 

She let out a slow breath, as if trying to calm herself. “And honestly, can you tell me after everything that’s been going on that their presence would’ve made tonight fun and celebratory? That it wouldn’t have all gone to shit because they would’ve done something to set you off? Can you honestly stand there and tell me that you wouldn’t get weird and…” 

She paused and then almost spat out the last part, “And _jealous_ if they so much as smiled at each other?”

_The hell was she talking about?_ He thought but didn’t yet say, sort of reeling from the question. Maybe because he already was feeling the reality of it all. 

But then he told himself that he wasn’t jealous of Clarke and Murphy. Not at all. He was maybe annoyed at their flirting and the way they now touched each other, so casual and easy. How they got along better than he and Echo ever had. _Maybe_ hearing about their sex life made him grit his teeth and tick his jaw and wish he could go back to a time where he never knew any of it. Perhaps he took every opportunity he had to be an asshole to Murphy. But that was...That was normal, wasn’t it? It dawned on him as the silence dragged on that it wasn’t. It was actually all kinds of awful. 

Sometimes, he wanted to talk to Clarke seriously about it. Instead of being a dick as he knew he was and had been since she started her thing with Murphy. Every time he wanted to find the words though, he couldn’t force them out. They never felt right or true. There was always something blocking out the ones he really wanted to say. 

He wasn’t jealous of Murphy. He couldn’t be. If he was, then that meant...He swallowed, and then realized he still hadn’t launched into a reply. 

He decided on a scoff, dismissing her point entirely, mostly because...He couldn’t let it be true, couldn’t give it any room. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “Yes, it’s been awkward between me and Clarke recently, but I’m not jealous. And in case you didn’t realize this already, telling them to not come tonight isn’t exactly going to help make things any less weird for everyone.”

Echo laughed, dry and mean. She gave him a smile that was more like a snarl. “You really love that excuse, don’t you? ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ come on, be a little more convincing? Please, Bellamy, let’s not fuck around with this anymore. We both know why I uninvited them, and it has nothing to do with how much I like them.”

Bellamy felt his throat get tight, and he realized he wasn’t sure if he had a defense against her words. Not one that she would believe, it seemed. He didn’t know what to do with the feeling. Because as much as he pushed against it and denied it and fought it with everything he had, there was a part of him that believed she might’ve been right. Or knew it, deep down where he was too afraid to look.

“The hell is going on?” Miller demanded, coming over to them with the rest of his friends. “You’re making a bit of a scene, not exactly playing the part of a ridiculously happy couple here.”

“Echo disinvited Clarke and Murphy from tonight,” Emori answered. She gestured to Bellamy and Echo, “And now we’re all a part of an After School Special.”

Miller looked between Echo and Bellamy, then looked up at the ceiling and muttered, “Fucking idiots.” Then he turned his attention back to Echo. “The hell were you thinking?”

“Let’s stop with playing pretend for once,” Echo replied. “We all know what I was thinking, and you _know_ that I was trying to do what was best for me and Bellamy.”

She looked at the rest of the group, who were all giving a mix of glares and rolled eyes. O exchanged a look with Lincoln that seemed like asking for permission to start a throw-down with her right there and then. 

“And whether you all want to admit it or not,” Echo continued, “you know I had my reasons for doing it, and maybe they were selfish, but you also know I had a point.”

“That doesn’t excuse it,” Monty shot back.

Bellamy felt even more panicked when he didn’t dismiss her words, didn’t even try. He knew everyone thought he had those feelings for Clarke at one point. In some part of his mind he did his best to ignore. But to hear that they still thought that was more than just jarring. It cracked his world like a lake that wasn’t yet completely frozen over, fissures appearing all over his life. 

Monty went on, “Everyone can have their reasons. Do you even care how much this is hurting Clarke? Or Murphy? Do you care that you’re making everything _worse_?”

Harper placed a hand on his arm and he softened a little at the touch. Bellamy wondered if he and Echo were ever like that, and honestly, he couldn’t remember. Which was...Bad. Even in his state of confusion and anger, he saw that. 

All he could think about right now was how Clarke must’ve felt when Echo told her not to come tonight. Hell, given the radio silence from both her and Murphy, he wasn’t surprised if she said _he_ didn’t want her here. Oh, hell. What she probably thought of him...It made him want to be sick. He knew that their relationship had been strained, especially in recent weeks, but she was still Clarke. Still his best friend, the person he went to and the person she was supposed to feel going to as well. 

The thought that he was losing her, might’ve already lost her, made his world spin on its axis. Without her in his life...Well, he couldn’t imagine a life at all. 

He didn’t say any of this out loud though, because he knew that it proved Echo’s point. It’d give her more ammunition to use against him, or even worse, Clarke or Murphy. It would make her think she was in the right, even though he believed nothing could’ve been farther from the truth. It didn’t matter what confusion he was feeling about Clarke though right now. What questions were whirling around in his head. He had to know that she knew that she mattered to him. More than anyone, really. Which was a stark realization with the woman he was meant to marry standing right next to him. Bellamy didn’t know how to deal with the fact that just as he now knew how far their relationship had fallen, the extent of the damage, he was also understanding how much he didn’t want to lose Clarke. How much he couldn’t lose her. Not for something as dumb as who she was sleeping with. Not for something as dumb as his own jealousy. 

With all of these thoughts creating a chaos in his mind, instead, he said something so much fucking worse than he ever imagined. 

Echo glared at him, rolling her eyes after a moment. “Just fucking admit it, Bellamy. Admit you have feelings for Clarke and you hate that she’s sleeping with Murphy because you have to deal with it and can’t hide from it anymore. Tell me that I matter more, I dare you, because from where I’m standing, it seems like I’m just another obstacle between the two of you.”

His head spun. What the hell was he supposed to do with any of that? Somewhere in his mind, he registered Jackson suggesting they go outside and do this there. Harper telling Echo that this isn’t the best time. Miller muttering a string of curse words. Raven giving him a pained expression. Jasper downing his drink. 

But none of that mattered when he replied, completely without thinking about the repercussions, “It doesn’t matter if I have feelings for her because she will never want me!”

Echo stared him down, unwavering. “And there we go. _That’s_ why I didn’t want them here, Bellamy. I did what I had to do for _us_ so don’t go being pissed at me and blaming me for making your relationship with her even more fucked than you already have when you know why I made this call.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” he said to her, and thought she’d storm off or even leave or _anything_. 

But she didn’t, she stayed where she was, beside him. Part of him wondered if anything he said about Clarke or himself would be enough to finally make her quit them. If she really thought that this was the best thing for her. It made him sad, and he felt like shit for how he’d treated her, but it wasn’t enough to kill how upset he was with her, either. 

“Emori,” he said, turning to her. “Call Clarke or Murphy right now.” 

He didn’t even look at Echo, he couldn’t. He was too pissed and didn’t want to say anything more that he’d regret or wouldn’t be able to take back. Already, the damage felt irreparable, but he didn’t want to hurt her more than he knew he already had. 

“Tell them what happened, and that I want them here, if they even still want to come, and that I’m sorry and—”

“Um,” Raven got out, interrupting, her voice filled with tension and shock. “That’s not going to be necessary.”

Bellamy frowned and then noticed that she was looking toward the entrance to the room. He followed her eyes and had to blink away his surprise. It took almost a full minute for him to register what he was seeing, and when he did, he swallowed thickly.

Fuck.

There, making their way through the doors, matching smug smiles on their faces as they took in everyone’s shocked expressions, was Clarke and Murphy.

* * *

The night really couldn’t have gotten any worse. Or more feeling like fate was pulling some pretty messed up strings that weren’t in any of their favor. Raven looked at Bellamy, whose eyes were still trained on Murphy and Clarke. 

They were both dressed in all black, which she knew without a doubt was Murphy’s doing. He was in a black suit and shirt, Clarke in a lacy dress that was low-cut and stopped before the knee. Both of them looked killer, and Raven wondered if that wasn’t actually on the agenda for the night. They walked in like the damn King and Queen of the Underworld. Raven’s worry and intense dread grew by the second. 

Then Clarke paused, still near the entrance, and Murphy turned to face her. She adjusted his collar and smirked up at him. He leaned down and kissed her, not without heat, and Raven hated the way she reacted, turning away from them. Not only to assess the rest of her friends but because it made her feel a bit queasy. She felt a spark of something and hated that a piece of her knew exactly what it was, and why she felt it. Their group wasn’t too far away from the two of them, and she was sure that Clarke and Murphy were perfectly aware of it, that every touch and exchange was on purpose. 

They approached with ease, getting cocktails off of a passing tray as they did and taking sips from their glasses. Part of her hoped that they wouldn’t actually come over to them. That they had better things to do, or at least wanted to avoid this conversation until they were drunk. Of course, they never were the kind to back down from a fight. Besides, they must’ve known, given Bellamy’s surprise and bordering on almost shaking, Echo’s pissed stance that radiated her anger, and Raven’s own worry and avoidance, that they had the upper hand here. 

“Why are they here?” Shaw asked, and really, it was sort of adorable, how little he understood about her friends. 

She looked over at him and shook her head. “Because they’re Clarke and Murphy.”

He frowned at that, but didn’t get a chance to say anything more because Murphy and Clarke had reached them. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Clarke said, as if this was all perfectly normal. 

Raven felt the tension in the air though, and knew it only fueled both of them on even more. 

“We didn’t really wanna come,” Murphy finished.

Yeah, that seemed about right. 

Echo, to her credit, or maybe not, did not attack either one of them. “Then why did you?”

“And pass up this glorious opportunity to fuck with you all?” Clarke scoffed and then grinned at her. “Not a chance.”

Oh joy. 

Raven realized that there was a reason Clarke and Murphy had come right up to them. They’d pre-gamed this. Pretty intensely, she guessed. She looked over at her friends, who all seemed to be registering the same thought. However any of this went down, she was absolutely positive it wasn’t going to be good. In fact, she wasn’t completely sure they would all make it out of this night unscathed. Both emotionally and, looking at the bruise that was now clearly formed around Murphy’s eye from Shaw’s punch, physically, too. 

“How’s the hand?” Murphy asked Shaw, grinning. He gestured to his face. “I gotta say, I think you were right about the makeover.”

“It does make you look pretty sexy,” Clarke added, smirking at him. 

Which made Bellamy flinch, which Raven knew was to their utmost delight. Honestly, she didn’t understand what their endgame was, not completely. Maybe they simply wanted to cause chaos. Clearly, they’d been hurt. Probably over more than Echo’s disinvite. There was something more to it, and she had a feeling it had a lot to do with how her and Bellamy had handled their relationship in the almost four months it’d been going on. 

She wondered, not for the first time, how tonight was the first time Bellamy admitted to anyone that he might have feelings for Clarke. For Echo’s sake, and really, _everyone’s_ sanity, she used to think her friends were just fishing. Sure, she teased him occasionally and definitely had some thoughts about his recent behavior. But she told herself that he didn’t have real feelings for her. At least, not ones that made any difference, ones that would’ve changed anything. She was starting to think that maybe she convinced herself of it because it made it easier for her to hide from her own emotions. From how _she_ felt. Especially about one cockroach in particular. 

“Clarke, I need to talk to you,” Bellamy said, his desperation evident in his voice.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I don’t care what you have to say.”

“Please. Let me explain what happened and how sorry I am and—” he started, but she cut him off. 

“Look, I would love to hear what I’m sure is a completely empty apology, but I have better things to do,” she told him. 

Then she turned to the rest of them. 

“As fun as this introduction to the night has been, I really gotta go mingle,” Clarke exclaimed and gave them all a cheery smile, even to Bellamy, who Raven thought might throw up from the way he was looking at Clarke. Like if he didn’t talk to her the world would end. Raven thought bitterly that it might, given her and Murphy’s behavior. 

She continued, “There are just so many of your relatives who I’m dying to meet, Echo. So, see you all around, hope you have a _grand_ time tonight.”

With that, she was off, toward one of the cousins who Raven was pretty sure complained there wasn’t enough caviar. A very pissed off Echo stormed off in the opposite direction. Bellamy paused for a second and Raven shook her head when they met each other’s eye. She willed him not to do it, but it was no use. 

He went after Clarke. 

The rest of their friends scattered, the traitors. Shaw stuck by her side though, for which she was simultaneously grateful for and not. She wasn’t sure what was going to come from another interaction between Murphy and her boyfriend. Not wanting to wreck this night even more than it already had been, which probably was going to continue, she turned to him and offered a tight smile. 

“It’s alright, I need to have some choice words with my friend here,” she nodded to Murphy. 

Shaw looked like he wanted to protest, even opened his mouth to do so, but she added, “It won’t take long, I promise. Then we’ll go find Echo and try to salvage what we can, okay?” 

He nodded, cut a vicious stare in Murphy’s direction. “Try not to be a complete dick to her for five minutes.” 

Murphy only snorted in response. 

Then Shaw turned back to her and said, “Alright.” 

He kissed her on the cheek quickly and went off in the direction where Miller and Jackson were drinking what she suspected very strong whiskey sodas. 

That left her and Murphy.

She didn’t wait to start tearing into him, though in hindsight, she knew what he was doing, and more importantly, _why_ he was doing it. Even that couldn’t stop her from being pissed that they’d already made this night awkward as all hell and brewing with tension. It didn’t take away that a piece of her was pissed he’d gotten into a fight with Shaw, that he pushed her boyfriend until he punched him. Even though she still was upset with Shaw, she couldn’t deny that there was a part of her that was pissed at Murphy, too. As much as she knew it wasn’t fair. Or maybe even right.

“What the hell are you two doing?” she demanded. 

Not waiting for an answer, she replied to her own question. 

“Forget it, you’re obviously being complete idiots, of course. I mean, are you actually thinking this through? Or are just bored and want to see what happens when you unleash an emotionally compromised Clarke Griffin on a party no one can escape? I thought you were a lot of things, Murphy, but I never took you as a fool.”

She didn’t know what she expected him to do with her rant, with her words that she regretted as soon as she said them, but she sure as hell didn’t think he’d _laugh_ at her. 

Crossing her arms over her chest, she got out, “I really can’t see what’s funny about this situation or what I just said. At all.”

He didn’t back down, meeting her exactly where she was, but he still had a smug smile on his face. 

Even as he said, “You would think that. You would jump to conclusions which you have no business doing, not that you care, instead of thinking through _why the hell we’re here tonight_. Hell, why the hell we’ve been sleeping together for months. Really, Raven, it should be me who’s saying I expected more from you. I mean, you are a genius, right?”

She sputtered a little after that, trying to cobble together a response. When she did, it rushed out of her, clearly flustered. It pissed her off. Normally, she wasn’t like this, she had a handle on herself and could deal with arguments. Right now though, she found she couldn’t do it with the confidence she usually had. Maybe because, deep in her mind where she couldn’t see properly because of the anger and confusion and feelings she’d been bottling up, she knew she was in the wrong. 

“I don’t pretend to even want to understand why you’re here or have been carrying on with Clarke when all it has done is fucked things up,” she shot back. “Because if I did, I probably wouldn’t even be able to relate to it. Because you’re…” She shook her head. “You two have no idea what you’re doing. What you’ve done.” 

He looked shocked for a moment, and then seemed to settle on something, so she added before he could reply, “Not that you care even the smallest bit.”

He laughed again, unkindly, cold. In a way she never thought she’d hear from Murphy again. Not after they started being friends in earnest. He pointed to himself. “What _I’ve_ done? You gotta be fucking kidding me.” 

He ticked his jaw and sucked on his teeth. She saw the anger building there, but she thought she recognized something like hurt, too. It made her want to backtrack. To apologize, even grovel. To atone for words she knew she was only saying because she was realizing why she cared that Murphy was sleeping with Clarke. Why they were rubbing it in her face tonight. It threatened everything she knew about herself and him and their relationship. She knew if she let it in fully, there would be no denying it anymore. So, she pushed past it with blame and anger and anything else she could think of that could stop it. 

For a moment, she thought he might walk away, but then again, she knew him better than that. 

“You’re really ridiculous, you know that?” He narrowed his eyes. “Because if you didn’t have your head so far up your ass that you’re probably seeing stars, you’d realize the only people ‘fucking things up’ are _you_ and _Bellamy_. That’s how it’s been this whole damn time. It doesn’t change just because you wanna deny it. Because you can’t look at yourself for who you are right now.”

“I don’t what you’re even talking about,” she went with and knew it wasn’t enough for even her own mind to be convinced. 

He leaned in close. “That’s exactly what Bellamy says.”

She hated him. Because he was right. Because she felt things that she definitely shouldn’t have. Because he wormed his way into her life and maybe her heart and how the hell was she meant to navigate that? Mostly though, she hated him because she didn’t hate him at all. 

“Like you know everything?” she almost yelled. 

She knew now it was the two of them making the scene, but she didn’t care. Couldn’t bring herself to even be bothered by the fact. 

Continuing, she said, “I can look at myself just fine. It’s obvious to me and everyone else that you’re the one who’s in denial.”

“Seriously?” he asked. “Is that meant to make a dent, because it doesn’t. Does the all-knowing Raven Reyes not know how to solve this riddle? Are we really playing this game?” 

He scoffed. For a second, he seemed to contemplate something. Raven knew, whatever he was going to say next, it was dangerous and would probably hurt more than she thought she would’ve been able to recover from. 

She was proved right when he went on, rage brewing in his eyes, “Fine, I’ll spell it out for you: you’re hiding in your relationship with Shaw, and you know it's true, and you know why, too.”

Shaking her head, she replied, “You’re wrong. I _love_ him and he loves me and that’s how it’s meant to be. I’m not hiding with him, I’m happy.”

“Say it even just a little bit convincingly, I dare you,” he told her. “Tell me why you’re together. Why it has to be him. Go on, prove me wrong.”

She didn’t want to give him what he wanted, but she found herself bursting out, “We’re good together because he cares about me and is loyal and considerate and I feel the same way about him and you know what? It feels pretty good that for one fucking time in my life he didn’t choose _Clarke Griffin_ over me.” 

There it was and she couldn’t take it back and he was registering it. Horrifyingly so, it was all over his face. A mix of shock and disbelief. Almost like he was trying to convince himself that it didn’t matter, or that she hadn’t even said it. Or at least, meant it in the way she knew she did. There was something else, too. Something that sparked his eyes with a look she’d never seen from him. Raven was the stupidest person in the world, all because she couldn’t keep her goddamn mouth shut. 

No, no, no, no. She couldn’t do this. Not here, not now. Not _ever_. It simply wasn’t something she would ever be equipped to deal with, so she had to run, had to escape whatever hell she’d landed herself in. 

“Raven—” he started, the surprise evident in the way his tone softened. 

She pushed it all away, even as she knew it hurt to do it. That it hurt both of them.

“Shaw is twice the man you will ever be. I will never stop being with him. I mean, really, he didn’t fuck up my leg for the rest of my life. So, honestly, you did everyone a favor by ruining shit with Clarke. Fucking forget it all,” she spat out. Then, she added, because it wasn’t bad enough, “As far as I’m concerned, you can forget me.” 

Before she could stop herself, and she knew, given the chance, she would’ve, and definitely before she thought better of it. Of how she was possibly making the biggest mistake of her life. 

She didn’t let it touch her though, just left Murphy behind in her wake of cruelty and went to find Echo. To deal with someone who had problems she could focus on so she didn’t have to deal with what she’d done. 

* * *

Clarke just finished making Echo’s cousin so exceptionally uncomfortable she wasn’t sure the poor guy was ever gonna recover. Oh well. It felt good to wreck things. To go after these unsuspecting people because she knew it messed with Echo, Bellamy, and Echo _and_ Bellamy, as a couple. 

She hurt. Physically, emotionally. Her chest burned with it. The alcohol she drained nothing compared to it. Almost soothing, in comparison. Especially as she had more and more. She needed them to know. No just that, she needed _everyone_ to know. That Bellamy might’ve been able to hurt her like this, but he couldn’t escape her making him feel it, too. Making him see it. Even if he didn’t understand it.

Then he was there beside her, as if she’d summoned him with her turmoil. 

“Clarke, please,” he begged. “Just listen to me. I can explain what happened. Hell,” he ran a hand through his hair. “I know I fucked up and been unfair and I probably don’t even deserve your friendship at this point. But I want to explain _everything_.”

She wanted to let him in, that was the worst part. She wanted to hear him out and give him the benefit of the doubt. She couldn’t though, it hurt too much. She’d been playing this game with him and Echo and Murphy and Raven and she didn’t want to do it. Not when she knew she’d always lose in the end, when she was so sure she’d already lost him, no matter if he’d protest it. She knew that nothing he said would make a difference. She had to end it all with him, even if it killed her.

“Forget it, Bellamy,” she forced out, her tone cool and unforgiving and nothing like how she actually felt. “I don’t want to hear your bullshit excuses. You’ve told me again and again that you’re sorry. Well, guess what? _I don’t forgive you_. I will not give that to you anymore.”

His whole expression broke and she hated herself but she also thought she was doing what she had to. It took him a moment to choke out, “What are you saying?”

She shook her head and seethed, “We’re done, so get over it.” She smiled a little, cold. “God knows that I already have.”

Then she turned and walked away, and got another drink, downing it as fast as she dared, holding back the tears that threatened to never stop once she’d let them start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, angst city it is...and we're not really leaving that soon. 
> 
> part 2 of the Engagement Dinner Fiasco will be posted (hopefully) soon. 
> 
> thank you for reading ❤︎
> 
> find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)


	12. (There's Nothing to Grab) So I Let Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies!! Thank you _so_ much for being so incredibly patient while I worked on this chapter. It's another monster of one, and I wanted to make sure I got it right before I put it out. I intended this to be out sooner, but then 7x13 happened, and well...I didn't want to give even more angst to the pain people were already feeling. I couldn't do it for myself, and didn't even know if people would still want this fic after everything. But we are continuing on and hoping for the best. Bellamy and Bellarke are ours and I will continue to write them and love them. 
> 
> Just a warning, this chapter is pretty damn angsty still. I promise the angst is reaching some kind of head, but it's gonna have aftershocks and serve as conflict for the story. I have a plan for this story, and it's an angsty and extensive one, but I promise everything has meaning. 
> 
> As always, I so appreciate any and all feedback, but please reserve from leaving any hate. It helps no one. 
> 
> In case you didn't know, there's a wonderful initiative going on for t100 fandom called t100fic-for-blm. Learn more about us and how to prompt a writer or content creator with our carrd here.
> 
> Thank you _so_ freaking much to the people who have nominated me for a BFWA, including a couple for this story. It truly means everything to me. Whether or not you vote for me, please show appreciation for the wonderfully talented people in this community. You can find information about voting here.
> 
> [find the playlist here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5GqGLwbeDBNfqUp0iVjVqF?si=U-dAdlCXQE-RpFRVTuHm7Q)
> 
> *Chapter title is from 'Blow Me (One Last Kiss) by P!nk*
> 
> Sending all the love and good thoughts to you 💞💞💞

Murphy’s head reeled in the moments after his fight with Raven. Once she’d stormed off, he sort of just stood there for a second, unsure of what to do with himself. For a second there, he believed she might’ve been on the edge of admitting that she had feelings for him. Which astounded him, made him question all of their interactions, especially over the last year. Even before then, too, if he really wanted to be honest. Before Shaw. Who managed to not deck Murphy again once he followed Raven off to find wherever Echo had stormed off to. Like that was gonna help anything, he thought, before his mind went back to him and Raven.

He realized that even though she’d immediately spit on him from a very tall height after nearly saying something she couldn’t take back, he couldn’t lie to himself and believe that that meant those feelings didn’t exist at all. As much as he wanted to deny it all, it led to a conclusion he didn’t know if he was ever going to be ready for, if he would ever fully accept, even if she said the words out loud for real. 

Draining his drink, he went to the bar and ordered another one. 

He drank half of that one, too. Then he ruminated on the thoughts that threatened to send him spinning. The more he thought about it, the more he believed it, but that didn’t make him feel any better. In fact, it made him feel _worse_. With a start, he saw it with the clarity he should’ve a long damn time ago. 

Raven had feelings for him, real ones. It was everything and yet nothing. 

If he’d come to this conclusion four months ago, he would’ve been ridiculously, disgustingly happy. But it wasn’t four months ago. The damage had been done and as much as he tried to deny that her snide comments and behavior didn’t impact him, it did. Raven having feelings for him didn’t take any of that away. It just made it so she might’ve had a real reason for it. Still, it wasn’t a good reason, not at all.

Instead of what he thought his reaction would be to finding out Raven returned even a fraction of what he felt, he didn’t feel joy or relief or hell, definitely, not love. None of those feelings came up. Even his sense of hurt was downplayed. Mostly, he just felt pissed off. It made him want to screw with her even more, and more grateful that he and Clarke decided to come tonight. 

Well, there was only one thing he could do about his anger, he figured. Let her know just how much he didn’t need her anymore. That he was done with the bullshit and the judging. He didn’t want her, even, after everything. Though he told himself this, he knew it wasn’t the full truth. But he’d been lying to Raven for so long now, it felt like second-nature. 

As he continued to drink, Murphy thought about how much he loved being drunk and screwing with people. Particularly, it seemed, when those people were Raven and Bellamy. So, he’d do what he was good at. He’d push and push and push until he was able to shut her out completely. Then they’d see where the two of them landed. Who was pathetic and alone and wishing the other would finally fucking notice them or some crap like that. Maybe it was wrong, to want that, but he’d been thinking for almost a year that he might love her, and had known it for sure the last six months. The fact that she might’ve returned any of those feelings, and still chose to judge him for Clarke and give him crap and make everything weird and tense. That she never _talked_ to him about it...He downed the rest of his drink. 

“Murphy,” Monty came up to him at the bar.

He grinned and nodded his head in greeting. “Hello, Monty. Lovely for you to come and say ‘hi’ on this blessed evening.”

Monty rolled his eyes and huffed out, “I’m not here to yell at you for coming, so you can cut the crap.”

He frowned but did wave a hand for Monty to go on if he’d like. 

“I know you two are hurting,” Monty said. 

Murphy snorted. “We are not. We’re grand, peachy, in fact. We just wanna piss off our dear friends who’ve been giving us shit for months now. Can’t friends threaten to ruin other friends’ nuptials anymore without it meaning they’re ‘hurt’?” he asked, putting the last word in air-quotes. 

The words felt lame though, even in his ears, and he regretted ever saying them, but knew he couldn’t backtrack now that he’d started. 

In Monty fashion, he gave him a disappointed stare and ignored his words. Instead, he kept going, “You need to think about how this is going to end. Look, do I think Bellamy and Raven and you and Clarke all need to be locked in a room and talk through your momentous amount of crap? You bet.”

Murphy opened his mouth to argue, figuring Jasper might have just that planned, but Monty cut him off. 

“Don’t worry, I diffused that possibility. Though, you should know, it got pretty far in the planning stages. We’re all worried as hell about the four of you, and none of you seem interested in actually doing anything to fix things.”

“Just because our friends have no idea what a boundary is, you decide to come and bitch to _me_?” Murphy questions patronizingly. “Pretty sure there are two much better candidates for that.”

“I respect this choice, I do,” Monty said. “It’s the one that you and Clarke are most comfortable with, the one that makes them feel what you’ve been feeling,” 

Monty dismissed Murphy’s words by not even acknowledging them, choosing to continue on with his own logic. But logic wasn’t going to help anyone tonight.

He went on, “But I don’t think _this_ is the best way to go about it.”

Murphy had heard enough. Honestly, he understood what Monty was attempting to do, but it wasn’t going to do him or anyone else any good. Everyone might’ve thought they needed to be considering the endgame of the night or whatever. He and Clarke sure weren’t though. They didn’t need to, because frankly, they didn’t care. They’d long since abandoned that. Sometime between when Bellamy started being a dick at basketball and Shaw punched him the face. Which, apparently, Raven only cared about when it came to how Murphy’d been a dick. The freakin’ icing on the shit cake. 

“Who says we care about that?” He turned to face Monty, setting down a half-empty glass. “Who told you that either me or Clarke give a shit what happens tonight? What blood is shed or lives lost? Who. Says. We. Give. A. Damn?”

Monty paled a little at that, something flashing in his eyes. He frowned in concentration and didn’t reply for a moment, which made Murphy grin and nod. 

“There we go, now you’re finally getting it,” he told him. 

“But Murphy, this will only hurt more—” Monty started, and though he knew he meant well, Murphy didn’t let him get any further. 

“Them,” he finished, voice cold. “It will hurt them.” He clapped Monty on the shoulder and stood, finishing his drink and ordering another. 

As soon as it arrived, he took a sip and smirked. “Now, if you excuse me, I have a young woman’s life to destroy.”

With that, he left him behind, knowing that if he hesitated, even for a moment, he’d go back on things. He’d think it through too much. As much as he knew this would hurt someone he’d cared about for years, as well as someone he was in love with, it didn’t matter, not anymore. He couldn’t let it.

He knew Monty had a point, several, in fact. He didn’t care about that though, couldn’t allow himself to give in even the smallest bit. If he did, he probably would’ve grabbed Clarke and packed it in right then, and that wouldn’t give him the chance to get back for everything that had happened in the last few months. It wouldn’t make any of it right or feel better or worth _something_. 

Honestly, more than anything, he wanted to make Raven pay for it. 

When he found her, she had a whiskey in her hand and almost made a run for it when she saw him, before she gave in and accepted her fate. Her shoulders gave in a little but she seemed to be steeling herself, preparing for a fight. If only she knew. 

“Murphy, can we talk—” she began, and he hated the way he picked up on how deflated she sounded. 

The regret was evident in her voice. He sensed how much she wanted to apologize and make good and all that other bullshit. Well, he’d had too much of that, recently. If she wanted them to be done, they could be done. It was going to be on his terms though because if she got to hurt him, then he was going to make her feel it, too. 

“Sure, let’s hash this shit out,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “I’ll start.”

She frowned and looked nervous, which almost made him back out of the whole speech he had prepared, but then he realized he needed to go through with it. He couldn’t let her in again. If he did, then he’d be the schmuck and she’d still be her incredible self and nothing would change. Change was necessary, he knew that, at least. For all of them. Raven and Bellamy just didn’t yet know how he and Clarke were going about it. He doubted they were going to like it much, either, but that was sort of the reason behind it all. 

“Okay, yeah.” She nodded and it only ticked him off more. “That’s...That’s fair,” she finished, shifting a little on her feet.

“Fair?” he asked, not even giving her an inch or a moment of niceties. “I would say it’s a hell of a lot more than fair considering this is what? The hundredth time you’ve given me crap for sleeping with Clarke? For not behaving exactly how you want me to, how’s most convenient for _you_?”

She swallowed thickly. “I know, and I get why you’re pissed but I can explain—”

“If you knew anything,” he replied, “you’d understand I’m not just pissed. Besides, I don’t need you to explain.” He felt his anger build with each word, which drowned out all the pain in the best way. “I don’t need you to say anything to me, as a matter of fact.”

Her brow furrowed and lip trembled for a second. If it was any other circumstance, he’d feel like shit. He didn’t though, only a little better, as much as he knew it was messed up to think and feel it. 

“Murphy, really,” she pleaded. “I’m so—”

He cut her off again, “Sorry?” 

He laughed dryly and shook his head in disbelief. Maybe it was the first time or the third or maybe even the fifth, he’d believe her. It’d been too much for too long and he couldn’t stomach it anymore. Not only for himself and his own self-respect, but for Clarke, too. They deserved better than what both Bellamy and Raven were giving them. He might’ve not always thought he deserved much, but he did know when he was being screwed with, or screwed over. 

“Please, Raven. Let’s cut the crap.” 

He sipped at his drink, casual, as if he wasn’t condemning her. 

“You’re not sorry in the least. I think we can stop pretending about that. If you were, then none of this would be happening. _You’re_ the reason things are so messed up right now, not me or Clarke or both of us together.”

She was surprised by the harshness of his tone, he could tell. He’d never spoken to her like this, even when they were at their worst. Which only spurred him on, encouraged him that he was doing the right thing. The only thing he could do, after everything that’d been happening for months. 

Before she could say anything in response, he continued, “You might be a genius, but you’re an asshole, too. You think you can go around being righteous all the time? Well, I’m sorry to tell you that you can’t. I won’t let you. Even if it means I finally have to tell you to your face what a fucked up hypocrite you are.”

Her face crumbled and he hated how it impacted him, if only for a couple of seconds. It wasn’t the vindication he craved. The feeling that he needed. It was painful and awful and he knew he was setting the whole damn house on fire, even though she was the one who poured the gasoline on it. He wanted to comfort her, to take it back, but he wasn’t done yet. 

“You don’t get to decide if we’re done,” he said. “You don’t get to continue to pull this crap and then tell me that you’re over it. I do.” 

He sucked at his teeth and then grinned cruelly. 

“And guess what? After everything, after everything that you _and_ Bellamy have pulled these last couple of weeks? I really am done. With both of you.” 

Murphy finished his drink and saluted Raven with it. “I hope it was fucking worth living up on your high horse, sweetheart.”

With that, he left, leaving her to deal and accept what he’d done and said. He didn’t want to stick around for the damage he’d done. He’d said what he needed to. What he’d been thinking for months. She had hurt him, and if the look on her face, the way she’d been holding in tears, was any indication, he had hurt her now, too. He just wished it felt as good as he’d been expecting it to, but he could settle for some complicated emotions. 

What mattered was that now she finally had to feel all of it, too. 

* * *

Bellamy went outside for a moment to get himself together with Miller, who found him not long after Clarke left him in her wake. He wished the fresh air helped at all. Instead, he leaned against the brick wall of the restaurant and took in slow, deep breaths and willed himself to get his hands to stop shaking. 

“Don’t say anything,” Bellamy got out as he felt Miller feel the pressure to speak, to try and make any of it okay. It would never be okay though, he knew that, and he suspected Miller did as well. As long as Clarke hated him like she did, and he knew he deserved it, nothing was ever going to be alright. 

“I just need…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t even _think_.”

He loved Clarke. That was another thing he knew. Though he’d thought he’d understood it for years. That it wasn’t _that_ kind of love. It couldn’t be, he’d made himself believe for so long. After her words to him though, after finally understanding the extent of his jealousy towards Murphy and her, he knew himself better. For so long, he’d created every work-around in the world to keep the truth from himself. From everyone else, too. 

He didn’t just love Clarke though, because, of course, he did. He’d thought it was the kind of love he had for Raven or Emori though. Now? Well, now he felt how wrong he’d been to ever think that. 

He was in love with Clarke, and still kind of engaged, and she didn’t want him in her life anymore. 

He hadn’t seen Echo since she stormed off before, but he’d known what going after Clarke and not her meant. He knew what their fight in front of everyone else meant, too. That they were done. Whether it happened tonight or tomorrow or the day after, it didn’t matter. He couldn’t be with her anymore when he finally was able to tell himself the reality of his feelings. It wasn’t fair to her. It wasn’t fair to any of them, and the severity of how unfair he’d been to both Clarke and Echo made him want to be sick. He thought he’d been doing his best to keep everyone safe, his whole life. But when it came down to it, he was the one who’d hurt them more than the rest of the world. 

“You gotta make it right,” Miller said. “It might feel impossible, but you get it now. I couldn’t tell you before, because you were so convinced it wasn’t real, but now you know. So, I can tell you: You love her, and you have to fix it.”

Bellamy nodded and then grimaced. “I know. But I’m not sure that I can. I’m not sure she even wants me to try, at this point.” He swallowed. “She hates me.”

Miller sighed and worked his jaw. “Yeah, I know.”

He looked away from the wall across from him and at Miller. “I don’t know _how_ to make it right. Not after everything I’ve done. You didn’t see how she said what she did, or the look on her face. Like I’m not even me. Like I’m a stranger.”

Miller’s hard stare softened, only a bit, but still. Bellamy felt it was more than he probably deserved from him. It wasn’t just Clarke and Murphy who’d he’d messed with, though certainly those two more than the others. No, he’d had to go and ruin the whole group, too. It was a lot to take in, understanding just how much damage his own inability to deal with his feelings had done. He bet if the feeling of the whole night so far was any indication, Raven was the only one who might be confronting anything remotely similar. 

Throughout these past months, Raven was the only one he felt truly understood what he was experiencing. Seeing it now, it was easy to know just how ridiculous he’d ever been to think he wasn’t head-ass in love with Clarke, and he’d bet anything that Raven felt, if not the same, then almost, for Murphy. 

It didn’t make anything better though, knowing how they both felt for the other two. It made it worse because they were able to be such idiots towards people they were meant to keep from the kind of harm they’d inflicted. Bellamy was known to wallow in his own self-loathing, but this, this took it to a new level. All because he knew, without Miller or anyone else having to tell him, that he deserved it. 

“It might feel like it will never be the same, but…” Miller trailed off and shook his head. “Look, I don’t even know if you want to have hope, and I definitely don’t want to give you any if there’s none to be found.”

Bellamy swallowed. He expected this. Miller was a good friend though, and he’d be honest with him. He appreciated that, even if it meant facing the fact that he’d lost Clarke for good. 

“Just fucking _talk_ to her,” Miller finished.

He thought about protesting, but realized he didn’t have it in him. Of course, he’d respect and understand if Clarke never wanted to speak to him again, as she’d almost said earlier that night. If Miller thought there was a chance though...If he believed that Bellamy might be able to try and repair things...Well, he wasn’t going to just let that go. 

Miller clapped him on the shoulder. “You gotta talk to Echo first though. Clarke isn’t the only one you messed with, whether intentionally or not.” He shook his head. “I’m glad you’re more self-aware now, but seriously? You fucked up.”

Bellamy nodded. “I know.”

He cut a look behind Bellamy. “I leave you two to it then,” he said, which confused him for a moment, but he didn’t expand, and moved past him, back into the restaurant. 

Bellamy turned around and faced a very pissed off Echo. He let out a breath, knowing that she deserved the truth. That he had to give it to her, even if it hurt. Better the truth than continue lying to himself and her. 

“I know you have every reason to not want to, but can we talk?” he asked, feeling incredibly lame and low and not at all the kind of person his friends used to believe he was, which he wasn’t sure could ever be fully healed. 

She hesitated, looking back through the door, before she stepped up to him. “Fine.” 

Her tone was cold, but he was pretty sure any kind of reaction from her would’ve been warranted. His own feelings from the beginning of the night returned then, as much as he wished it didn’t. He’d almost forgotten his anger at her for uninviting Clarke and Murphy, and what it’d done, but it came back unexpectedly. He felt bad for still holding onto it, after everything. They couldn’t erase what had happened though, and neither one of them were going to get out of this unscathed. 

“I go first,” she said before he could get any apologies or other words out. 

He nodded and didn’t speak, waiting for her to decide when she was ready. 

“Can you at least admit I was right to disinvite them?” she asked. 

Bellamy frowned, unsure of where she was going with this. “Echo, I know why you did it, but still...It hurt them, not just me. It hurt _our_ friends. Monty was right. It made everything worse.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and took her gaze off of him. “I am trying to save us, and I don’t understand why you can’t just agree with me. I mean…” She shook her head and looked back at him. “Look what happened.”

“I know, and it was my fault, and it doesn’t mean much, but I really am sorry.” It wasn’t enough, but he wasn’t sure that anything ever would be. “That I did this to you. That I hurt you. All of it.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you breaking up with me?” The words came out slow, careful, as if she was deciding whether or not she was going to kill him. 

Bellamy swallowed. “I’m trying to do the right thing, as late as it is.”

“The right thing?” she repeated. “Are you kidding me?”

“Echo—” he started, but she didn’t let him finish. 

“No,” she said. “You’re not doing this to me. Not at our damn Engagement Dinner. Not after everything we’ve been through. No fucking way.”

“Didn’t you come out here to dump _me_?” he asked, confused and helpless and more than a little shocked. 

Echo scoffed. “Of course, I didn’t. We had a fight, yes, and you more than just humiliated me in front of our friends but…” She let out a breath and squeezed her eyes shut. “I am willing to work through it.”

Now he really didn’t understand what was going on. He figured she hated him, rightly so. He expected her to ask him to let her tell people. To pretend for one more night for her family’s (and her own) sake. He wanted to do that for her, if he could. Anything to make this easier for her. It was sad, made him regret what he’d done to her. Even if he knew he’d never love Echo the way he loved Clarke, he still loved her, all the same. She mattered to him, and he didn’t want to cast her away like she didn’t mean anything. That wouldn’t be him, and he never wanted it to be. 

“You don’t want to break up?” he asked, the disbelief evident in his voice. He couldn’t control it, even as she rolled her eyes at it. 

“No, I don’t,” she replied, almost as if he should’ve known this already. But he never would’ve guessed in a thousand years that Echo would still want to be together after everything. 

He gaped at her for a moment before he collected his thoughts. “I know things have been tough for you, but do you think...I mean, is this really what you want?”

Echo bit her lip, seemingly thinking it over. Her eyes gave away the sadness she felt, for which he knew he was the cause, and wanted to fix, but knew he couldn’t. That he didn’t have the power to make it right, let alone take it away completely. 

“Yes,” she responded. “It is.”

Bellamy knew what he wanted though, and as much as it was going to hurt both of them to do it, he had to be honest now. No more hiding or living in denial. No more taking it out on the people he loved the most. He had to take responsibility for the shit show he’d helped create. Ending things with Echo was a part of that. 

“I get it, I do,” he started. “It’s scary.” He was unsure of where he was even going with it, but he spoke from his heart, appealing to her own. 

“I mean, I know that I’m terrified of this ending because it has been good. It’s been great, being with you. But we both know it’s not right. Not anymore.” 

He sighed. “I’m not sure it ever was. Not just because of Clarke, but we both know she’s the main reason, and there’s no use in me pretending it’s any different. Especially since you know it already, too.” 

He thought through his next words more carefully, trying his best to choose the best ones. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I know I already have, and for that, I’ll have regrets when it comes to the two of us for the rest of my life. I can’t change how I feel though, or what I know is the best thing for both of us. I don’t like it, I don’t want you to think I do, but we both know it’s better for this to end.”

He watched her silently after he finished. She didn’t say anything for a long time, just stared at him. Unflinching. Only blinking a couple of times. 

“No,” she said after a long silence.

He frowned. “What?”

She shook her head. “I said no.”

“I—” he began, but she cut him off. 

“You’re confused right now, I get it, but we’re not ending. Not like this.”

He didn’t even know how to begin to process that response. It didn’t make any sense. Maybe it did, he knew in some far away part of his mind. She never was one to give up, even when she maybe should’ve. She’d been burned in the past, and had an unflinching loyalty. He thought that was an entirely good quality, but now he wasn’t so sure. Still. He was amazed by it. Of all the insults and cutting remarks he’d imagined, he never factored in the idea that she might just deny it outright. 

“Echo—”

“I am going to go back inside,” she explained. “And we’re going to do the speeches. Then we’ll go home and have a long talk about all of this. But we’re not ending. Not after everything I did to get here. To get _us_ here.”

Without even waiting for a response from him, or, really, giving him the chance to form one, she was off. He stood there for a while, jaw probably on the ground. He needed her to understand that it was over. For her own good, really. He wanted her to be happy, and he knew that could never be him. 

That brought his thoughts back to Clarke once more. He set off inside. Even if things were even more complicated with Echo now than before, he needed to find her. To try and talk to her, as Miller told him to, his words were the only thing that gave him even an ounce of hope. 

* * *

After she said their friendship was essentially over, Clarke didn’t see Bellamy again until he found her. Right before the speeches and her big moment. She was outside, on the patio. There were fairy lights and everything. It really was quite pretty. Echo’s parents definitely shelved out more cash than she imagined. Too bad she was intent on ruining it all tonight. Mostly because it would prove something to Bellamy and Raven, but perhaps more than that, she wanted to destroy it because it was the perfect representation of all her whirlwind of emotions she’d experience in the last couple of months. 

Plus, it felt damn good.

“Clarke—” Bellamy said from the entrance, but she cut him a glare and he went quiet. 

“I thought I said not to bother,” she replied, voice colder than she thought possible, certainly than earlier. She gratefully thought that the booze helped in that department. If Clarke was teetering on the edge of drunk before she’d even got to the restaurant, she had flung herself over the side by now. 

“I know, and I understand why you don’t want to talk to me after everything but if you want to chew me out and then tell me everything I did wrong. I want to try and make this right and I’m so—”

“I really don’t think you do,” she cut him off mid-sentence. “You don’t understand a thing about what happened between us.” 

_I did it all because I love you and you don’t feel the same but you’re still intent on judging me anyway_ , she thought but knew, even drunk, she’d never have the guts to say. 

“Besides,” she scoffed. “I’ve heard the, ‘I’m so sorry,’ crap before. Remember? In fact, I doubt it even holds any meaning anymore, you’ve said it so much.”

He hung his head and nodded, accepting the cruelty of her words to the extent she didn’t think he would. She figured he would’ve fought her more, defended himself. Clearly, something had changed. Clarke didn’t care what that was though, she couldn’t. 

Bellamy looked back up at her and she had to stare at the wall instead of him, his expression held so much. More than she was ready to confront. She’d hurt him and she hated herself for it, but he’d hurt her first. She was just trying to even the score. To make him feel even an ounce of what she had since she started sleeping with Murphy. Really, before then. Since she realized she was in love with him. 

“You have every right to hate me,” he told her. “And I know I don’t deserve it, but give me a chance to explain. At least tonight, if nothing else. I promise, this isn’t at all how I wanted things to go.”

She forced herself to look back at him, the way his eyes pleaded with her in desperation be damned. 

“You should’ve thought about that at the start. Before any of the rest of it,” she responded. Collected and vicious and not at all the way she thought she’d ever speak to Bellamy since they became friends. 

Clarke couldn’t do this anymore. Not if she was actually going to go through with what her and Murphy had planned. Before he could say anything else, she started walking past him. There was no use in hearing him out because it would only make it hurt more. The reasons he had for uninviting her tonight. The reasons he had for all of it. It wouldn’t take what happened away. For now, she didn’t want to know because if she did, she knew she’d forgive him, despite everything, and she wasn’t ready for that yet. 

“Clarke, wait—” he got out, reaching out for her, but she avoided his touch, breezing past him and back inside. She heard him follow her, but didn’t turn around. She wasn’t about to let her guard down. If she did, she might actually hear him out, and then she’d really have no dignity left. 

Echo’s mom clinked a champagne glass with a fork to get everyone’s attention. Across the room, she met eyes with Murphy. This was her time to shine. One of Echo’s cousins got up to give her speech, but Clarke got to the mic and the front of the room first. She shot her a look and the cousin retreated quickly to her seat. 

She registered the alarm in the room as she turned the mic on and grinned out at everyone. She did feel a bit bad about her friends being collateral, but not bad enough for her to stop what she was about to do. Clearing her throat, she ignored the looks from Octavia and Harper. The horrified expression on Jasper’s face. Miller glancing over at Jackson, all concerned. 

“Hi, everyone,” she said, sickly sweet. Pointedly, she ignored Bellamy, who had taken a seat beside Echo. She, meanwhile, was glaring at Clarke. Which she felt bad about, but, well, they never were that close. “I’m Clarke, and I was supposed to be the Best Woman.”

She fiddled with the mic for a second before starting in earnest, “Let’s all take a moment to truly appreciate what a wonderful couple Bellamy and Echo are.” She shook her head and grinned even wider. “I mean, I have to say when they first started dating, I wasn’t so sure Bellamy was making the right choice. But now I know better.”

Echo’s mom made a satisfied look at that, which was immediately wiped off her face by what Clarke said next. 

“Bellamy made his choices, and now we all get to live with them.” Her smile stayed in place, but her tone was replaced with one dripping with sarcasm. “Which is just joyous, don’t you all think?”

“You see,” she went on, “I wasn’t exactly instructed _not_ to give this speech tonight, but the beautiful bride and groom did tell me not to show up tonight, so,” she shrugged, “I guess that sort of counts.”

And with that, the chaos began. 

“I’ve been friends with these two for years.” She let out a dry laugh. “And they have the utmost decency to tell me I mean about as much to them as the creepy pretzel guy in the park. Which, seriously, you should see that guy’s facial hair.” 

She focused on the rest of the crowd, forcing herself to look away from Bellamy, and the pained expression on his face. 

“But it’s fine, truly. No big deal. It’s their engagement and all of that.” Waving a hand, she added, “After all, better to find out they're complete _assholes_ now than later. Make a clean break.”

Unable to keep herself at bay for long, she found her eyes going back to Bellamy, who looked so pitiful she almost felt bad. Almost. Echo paled, but had murder in her eyes. Oh well. Nothing Clarke could do about that, now that she’d kicked things off. 

She remembered the words she and Murphy had practiced before coming over here. She was meant to give maybe a few sentences. Just enough to fuck with Bellamy, but not completely burn everything to the ground. Now she was up here though, and confronting all her feelings she’d kept inside for the last months, maybe even years. She found she couldn’t do what her and Murphy agreed. It was simply too easy.

Instead, she kept going, “I’m gonna be just fine though, I don’t want any of you to worry.” She bit her lip and pretended to think for a second. “In fact, I am thrilled that they revealed who they truly are. Sure, I wasted years of my life on them, but at least I can be free of it. Because…” She shook her head and narrowed her eyes at Bellamy. “There really is nothing left.”

As if Murphy sensed her desire to spin out of control, he sent her a warning look. Making a gesture with his hand for her to cut and run while she still had the chance. Clarke ignored it, and continued on, not even pausing to think about what she was saying. Or the consequences of it. 

“Guess what Bellamy? I’m over all of your bullshit, and you in general!” Clarke burst out, louder than she intended but no less true, still staring Bellamy down. 

Then she cut a look at an appalled and terrified looking waiter, who appeared to be on the verge of pissing himself out of fear. 

Clarke smirked, and leaned in close toward him, but still spoke into the mic, “Not that I was ever under him.” 

She pointed at Murphy. “I’m under this one instead, since, you know, Bellamy’s been engaged and all.”

To her delight, she saw that Bellamy looked like he might faint at her saying all of that. Which only spurred her on to continue. This was the best she’d felt in _months_ and she wasn’t about to just let it go with a few simple jabs. 

* * *

Murphy knew tonight was gonna be a shit show, one he was looking forward to, that is, until Clarke went rogue. She launched what was meant to be a thirty second burn into an entire speech, a takedown for the books. They’d talked about exactly what she’d say that night while pre-gaming. Murphy helped her come up with it. 

Of course, she got upset earlier though, and now, they were all gonna pay for it dearly. If he wasn’t scared shitless of what she was gonna say or do, he’d be laughing his ass off. It was prime entertainment, after all. Just not on script. Normally he enjoyed a little improvisation, but this wasn’t just spontaneity. This was pure rage and resentment and pain bottled up for months that was finally exploding. 

It wasn’t going to end well for any of them. Including himself and Clarke. 

When she pointed at him and told everyone they were sleeping together, he waved a hand and smirked. In actuality though, he knew this meant nothing good. Clarke was going off the deep end, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull her back out when she was done. 

Not with Bellamy or Raven, which he didn’t care about, really, but everyone else. This wasn’t just pulling the two into it, it was putting in every single one of them in a rough spot. He thought they could avoid this, but as Clarke went out, spurting out insults about how Bellamy and Echo were uppity gentrifiers, he didn’t think that was true. At least, not anymore. 

There was no more denying Clarke’s feelings for Bellamy, not after this. The things she’d already said and was in the process of saying. He felt it wash over his friends. The extent of the betrayal between the four of them might’ve been irreparable, and now they knew why. It was only a matter of time before the truth came out about how he felt about Raven. 

Emori gave him a sad look, her eyes soft. He ignored it, but appreciated it all the same. She’d done what she could to help him cover up his feelings for Raven. Telling everyone the break-up was mutual even though she’d dumped him once she figured out he wasn’t being honest with either one of them. 

Look what good that did. 

He swallowed thickly as Clarke said, “Oh, and another thing! Bellamy, I really am so _glad_ that you felt the need to judge my sex life every chance you’ve gotten over the past four months. It really is just _cool_ of you to do that. If I didn’t know any better, and really, who says I do, I’d think you’d wanna fuck me.” She looked over at Echo. “Sorry if that’s awkward for you.”

She didn’t sound sorry at all.

Murphy didn’t know how to stop this. How to prevent it from getting even worse. With the luck he was having, she’d reveal to everyone his feelings for Raven, too. He wasn’t sure he could’ve even been mad at her for it, she was clearly so upset. This wasn’t just any woman losing her shit in front of a room full of friends and strangers. 

It was _Clarke Griffin_ losing her shit. Which didn’t happen often. In fact, he was pretty sure the only time he’d ever seen something like this was because of Abby or Bellamy. Even then, it’d been tears and worry, not anger. An angry Clarke...It was a whole other ordeal. 

* * *

Fucking hell. This was going to be the worst goddamn night of Raven’s entire life, and she’d had a lot of bad nights in her life. 

She didn’t understand why Clarke and Murphy decided Bellamy and Echo’s Engagement Party was the best event for them to use to burn their lives down, but Clarke didn’t seem intent on stopping. Everyone else was too shocked to even try to shut it down. She looked over at Murphy, who she was sure saw her stare but pretended he didn’t. Goddamn it. They definitely planned this. 

Clarke leaned on the mic stand and shook her head, still grinning. It seemed she was the _only_ one currently having a good time. Except maybe Murphy, but when Raven looked over at him again, she thought he might’ve seemed a bit worried. 

“Of course, you probably don’t want to fuck me,” Clarke replied to herself. 

She sighed, seemingly content with how this was going. 

She gestured with a hand and licked her lips before saying, “If you did though, you should probably know that I would’ve. Like definitely would’ve. I mean, not _now_ obviously. Because you’re a trick ass bitch who doesn’t know how to keep your judgements in check. But before? Hell yeah.”

Raven rubbed at her forehead, wishing she was anywhere else. More than that, she wanted to talk to Murphy still. Even after he chewed her out. Even after he made her think that there really was no hope for their friendship. Which...She now saw was fair. Like a coward, she’d understood her feelings for Murphy only when it was too late. 

To add onto it, she’d gone and been even more of a bitch than she had been for months. She blamed him for making her want him. Which she knew was the worst thing she could’ve done. It was something no one deserved, but especially not Murphy. Not when he was the one who made her laugh like no one else and cooked her dinner and was a damn good friend even if he wasn’t always a good person.

“I mean, I wasn’t like pathetic for you or anything,” Clarke said, which told everyone she was pathetic for him. “Not as much as a friend of mine is for someone else.”

After that, she couldn’t stay focused on Clarke, even though she knew she should’ve since she figured Bellamy was going to need many drinks to talk it through and process it all. Her mind kept going to Murphy, especially when she looked over at him after Clarke’s latest comment. His jaw was set and he was staring at the wall above Clarke’s head. She tensed all over, unable to shut off her mind. To stop it from returning again and again to the fact that Clarke had just said that a friend of hers was pathetic for someone...It registered who this could be, and for who he had those feelings for, but it still didn’t fully set it. 

Her mind was too busy processing her own feelings for Murphy. She felt Shaw place a hand over hers and felt sick. She’d been hiding in her relationship with him, maybe for longer than she’d like to admit. Which wasn’t fair to him or Murphy. Not that Murphy wanted anything to do with her now. He’d made that abundantly clear. 

Raven couldn’t make herself stop caring about him in that way though. She was in deep. She just wished she’d figured it out before everything had gone to hell. Then, she was drawn out of her head by what Clarke said next because she almost couldn’t believe it herself. 

“You know, it’d be one thing if _nothing_ ever happened between the two of us, but then you had to go and act like we never kissed on Halloween years ago. Like it didn’t even matter.” Clarke snorted and looked away from Bellamy for a moment. Raven saw as she took in the expressions of everyone there with a kind of glee. “Hell, maybe it didn’t.” She shrugged but then turned serious. “But _I_ should’ve mattered.”

Raven’s eyes went to Bellamy without her even thinking about it. What she saw didn’t make her, or she would’ve bet, anyone else, feel at ease in the slightest. He seemed genuinely shocked, but there was something else there too. Guilt. Regret. Heartbreak, even.

It was only the last part of this latest admission that Clarke’s voice shook and revealed more than just rage. That she was hurt by what Raven and Bellamy had done. It made her realize that it was all four of them in this tangled web. She’d hurt two of her friends in this mess. Maybe she still had Bellamy, but the thought that she’d lost _both_ Clarke and Murphy made her self-loathing spark. She’d vowed after Finn happened and they learned to let go of the pain that she would talk to Clarke if there were ever problems between them. She’d had every opportunity to speak to her friend, and she’d dismissed them all. 

What a damn mess this was, one that she had helped create. What made it all the worse was that she didn’t see any way out of it. 

* * *

The world spun and then stopped and froze. Maybe forever. Bellamy wasn’t sure. All he was sure of was that Clarke just told everyone that they’d kissed. That they’d had a chance and he’d ruined it. If he wasn’t absolutely stuck in his seat as she continued her drunken tirade, he would’ve collapsed.

He remembered Halloween, of course, he did. He wasn’t that drunk when Clarke kissed him. When he kissed her back. The world had stopped and frozen not unlike just now. Except then, it’d been pure joy and relief and hope that they might just be something one day. 

Then the next day came, and she didn’t mention it. Just looked at him a little weird over their coffee. It’d been a lot to swallow, the fact that she either didn’t remember it or didn’t want to, and he couldn’t decide which one was worse, at the time. All he knew was that he had to protect their friendship. His own confusing feelings didn’t matter. What did was to make sure she felt comfortable around him. 

So, he decided to never bring it up. To push it back into a corner of his mind. Bellamy knew he took the memory out and examined far more than was necessary or platonic. He didn’t let himself think about what it meant until tonight. 

The thought that she _wanted_ him. That she remembered the kiss and thought it mattered...It threatened to consume every thought for the rest of his life. 

His shock wore off sooner than he thought possible, though it was almost immediately replaced by crushing guilt and regret and an ache so profound in his chest he was sure there was no song or artwork or piece of writing that could capture it. It was beyond the written word or artistic expression. He was pretty sure it was an entirely new kind of break, a kind that could only exist between Bellamy and Clarke. 

She wanted him, or at least, used to, and he’d destroyed it. He’d destroyed _them_. Nothing he did would ever fix this, he knew it and felt it but still couldn’t comprehend its meaning. Clarke didn’t even want to speak to him anymore, let alone anything else. None of it mattered. He was too late, and as if that wasn’t the worst of it, he’d hurt her in the process. The person he loved more than anyone. Who did that? Someone who certainly didn’t deserve her, and probably never did, that’s who. 

Bellamy didn’t register her next string of insults. They didn’t matter anyway. Nothing else could even come close to the turmoil and anger he now felt toward himself. Well, he thought nothing could touch him now that he realized the extent of his idiocy. Until she said something that rocked his entire world once more. 

She was mid-speech, more like ranting, actually, and then she paused and shook her head and almost spat, “ _I can’t believe I ever_ _thought I was in love with you_!” 

In the moment that followed, Bellamy gulped and couldn’t take her eyes off of her. Clarke seemed just as shocked as everyone else in the room. Her eyes impossibly wide, then blinking rapidly. He was vaguely aware of Jasper and Monty looking at one another, matching expressions of terror. Octavia putting her head in her hands and then glancing over at him. Raven still looking desperately at Murphy, who seemed like he was about to get up and hoist Clarke out of there. 

To Bellamy though, there might as well have been no one else on the damn planet, let alone the restaurant. 

Quicker than anyone else could react, Clarke set down the mic on the table and took off running out of the restaurant. Bellamy scrambled out of his seat after her. Echo called out to him, but he told her he had to go after her. He still didn’t understand what she thought she was saving between them. It made him sad for both of them, but there wasn’t time to think about that. Not when Clarke had said she _loved_ him. Well, that she thought she did. But that part didn’t matter. Nothing did but trying to talk to her once more. Even if she truly did hate him. 

He was above having any kind of hope, but it lingered, as much as he knew it was useless. If Clarke thought she loved him once, then that meant...God. He really had fucked everything up, hadn’t he? 

Running out onto the street, he found Clarke standing outside.

“Don’t,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t even know why you’re here, Bellamy. Wasn’t all of that proof enough that I. Don’t. Need. You?” 

“Clarke, please—” he pleaded.

It sounded lame even to himself, but he didn’t know what else to do. He knew if she really didn’t want him in her life he’d have to respect it. But she just admitted in front of everyone that she thought she loved him, at one time, even if it wasn’t true anymore. He couldn’t just erase that from his mind or his heart. 

“Just leave, for fuck’s sake,” came from Murphy, who wasn’t far behind Bellamy. He went over to Clarke. “You alright?” he asked. 

She nodded and cut a cool look at Bellamy. “I’m just fine.”

“I know I’m a shit and everything’s ruined, but can we talk, please, Clarke?” Bellamy begged, knowing it was too much and not enough. 

As if the moment wasn’t bad enough, the rest of their friends came out then. Miller looked at him, all disappointment. He’d told him to fix things, and instead, he was pretty sure he’d messed them up even more. 

“Bellamy, what the hell are you doing?” Echo asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t want to do this with you right now. You know how I feel.”

Clarke looked between the two of them. “Did you two break up?” she asked, her voice more hesitant and less biting. So much so that he thought he imagined it for a second.

“Yes,” he said.

At the same time Echo said, “No.”

Murphy laughed and sucked at his teeth. “It looks like you two have some shit to figure out, so Clarke and I are gonna head out. Sorry we’ll miss dessert.”

He tried again, knowing he was becoming more desperate by the minute. “Clarke, can we just talk about what happened for a second. I know I don’t deserve it but—”

Murphy didn’t let him finish. “She doesn’t want to fucking talk to you.”

“Murphy,” Raven said, her voice sad and filled with something like mourning. “Maybe they need to talk and I need to say something to you. I need—”

“I didn’t give a fuck about what either one of you _need_ ,” Murphy told her. Then he looked at Clarke, who nodded again.

She looked at both him and Raven and opened her mouth, but then closed it. She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You know what? It’s not worth it. I’m done,” she finished.

With that, she walked away, not glancing back at them once. 

Murphy looked between Echo and then back towards Clarke’s retreating figure. 

“Murphy—” Bellamy started, but he didn’t let him get another word out. 

“I’m done too, in case either one of you were wondering.” He snorted and shook his head. 

Bellamy unexpectedly swallowed down tears. He knew he couldn’t hold back what the night had done to him, had done to all of them, for much longer. Even if he knew he played such a large role in getting them here. 

“Seriously, did you think you could have both of them to yourself?” Murphy asked, cruel and condescending, a smirk that spread across his face. 

He shook his head and then bowed slightly to all of them. “Have a good night, all of you.” Then he went in the direction Clarke had gone and disappeared around the corner. 

“Bellamy—” Echo began.

He ignored her though. He ignored all of them. Instead, he set off in the opposite direction Murphy and Clarke had gone. He heard someone come up beside him but knew it wasn’t Echo from the gait, the sound of Raven’s brace. 

“I’m in love with Murphy,” she said after they’d walked a couple blocks. 

“I’m in love with Clarke,” he responded after a long silence. 

She nodded and huffed out, “Fuck. We really screwed up, didn’t we?”

He ticked his jaw and then replied, “Yeah, we did.”

Bellamy knew that if Clarke truly didn’t want him in her life anymore he had to try and accept it. There was something in the look on her face though, at the last minute. Something that didn’t give him any kind of hope, but told him that he shouldn’t give up. There had been so many times where they didn’t give up on one another. Even when they maybe should’ve. Even when it seemed hopeless between them or for them. They didn’t care. They kept trying anyway. 

He wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t do everything he could now. They wouldn’t be Bellamy and Clarke, even. He’d ruined things, yes, but that didn’t mean that he was going to lie down and let it stay that way. It might’ve been useless, but he’d pursued useless pursuits before. This one just meant so much more than any of the others. As long as Clarke would let him, he’d do anything in his power to get them back to where they were, even if that was no longer possible. 

He had something to hold onto, and he wouldn’t let go, not when it would mean letting Clarke go. If she allowed it, he’d bind himself to making it up to her forever. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading ❤︎
> 
> find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)


	13. With Tears In My Eyes I Begged You to Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so, so much for being patient with this update. I recently started a new job and it's been difficult to find a balance between work and writing. I don't know when exactly the next update will be, but I'll do my best to not leave too long of breaks between chapters. Thank you for understanding!
> 
> Now, this chapter includes the first half of Abby's birthday party, which isn't quite as dramatic as the previous chapter, but is still angsty in all the best ways, hopefully. This one is pretty different from the original, and will have slightly different impacts as a result. However, the overall narrative (and endgames) remain the same. 
> 
> In case you didn't know, there's a wonderful initiative going on for t100 fandom called t100fic-for-blm. Feel free to send in prompts to me for a chapter on any of my wips or a new fic! Learn more about us and how to prompt a writer or content creator with our carrd [here](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/).
> 
> Thank you _so_ freaking much to the people who have nominated me for a BFWA, including for this story. It truly means everything to me. Whether or not you vote for me, please show appreciation for the wonderfully talented people in this community. You can find information about voting [here](https://bellarkeficawards.tumblr.com/post/630636326934495232/voting-details).
> 
> Find the playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5GqGLwbeDBNfqUp0iVjVqF?si=1libQK8hTAeZ0aBaTMcAQg)
> 
> *Chapter title is from 'Twin Size Mattress' by The Front Bottoms*
> 
> Sending love and good thoughts to you all 💖💜💙

Murphy arrived at Abby’s birthday party with Clarke and knew the night was going to be hell before they got out of the car. It’d been two days since the Engagement Dinner, and they’d both ignored all forms of communication Raven and Bellamy had tried since that night. Maybe if things were different, they’d want to hear what they had to say, but not after everything. Clarke was still embarrassed about what she’d done, though he’d done his best to assure her it wasn’t that bad. She knew he was lying, but still seemed grateful for it.

Honestly, he just wanted the birthday party to be over with—they even considered not going at all. But then Abby called to confirm Clarke and the rest of them were coming and she caved. 

“You don’t have to come anymore,” she told him the previous night.

He snorted. “And make you face that crap with only Jasper at your side? Not likely. Besides, it’s gonna take all of us to make sure Octavia doesn’t actually throw down amongst the champagne and caviar.”

She went to argue further, but he cut her off with another remark, and she let it go, accepting the fact that he and her other friends were still going. 

At least Raven and Bellamy weren’t going to be there, and by extension, Shaw and Echo as well. Their absence would be the only saving grace of the whole night. Clarke had been sure to communicate through Octavia that neither one of them were welcome anymore. As if that was a surprise to anyone. 

The two had tried everything, speaking through their friends, texting, and other forms of social media. He was starting to suspect that the two of them might be looking into sky-writing. Nothing worked though. Murphy knew that no matter what Raven did, it wouldn’t take away the months of judgments and deceit. 

If she really did have feelings for him as he now believed, then she should’ve told him why she reacted the way she did to him and Clarke. Instead, she lived in denial about it. She probably lied to herself about it to such an extent he knew there was little anyone could do about it. Even herself. But none of that made the pain any less palpable. It couldn’t get rid of the fact that she hid in a relationship with someone while making him feel like crap for sleeping with someone else. All while harboring feelings for him. 

None of it was fair to all of them, but Bellamy and Raven made their decision to let their emotions hurt Clarke and Murphy. The rage that coursed through him concerning the issue blocked out the possible sympathy that he could’ve had. He and Clarke had discussed it, and he knew she felt similarly. As much as they wanted to have the other two in their lives, as much as they still loved them both, they were trying to do what was best for them. And right now that was expelling them both from their lives.

Clarke was all nerves as they drove to the party. Neither one of them wanted to drink that much that night so they chose to take Clarke’s car. Perhaps more because they were both still recovering from the major hangovers they’d had following the Engagement Dinner disaster. The day after had been a rough one filled with groaning, coffee, and Tylenol. Though they’d both managed to be upright for the party, they knew they couldn’t afford to lose control at this event. Murphy offered to drive there. Mostly because Clarke couldn’t sit still and he didn’t want her to crash the damn car and kill them both. 

“I’m fine,” Clarke insisted.

“Sure you are,” he shot back, not buying the crap she was trying to sell for a moment. 

If he was a kinder person, really, if he was someone more like Bellamy (or how Bellamy used to be four months ago) then he would’ve entertained her more. But he wasn’t that. There was no use pretending he was someone else. Some people liked to hide from their feelings or the truth, but Murphy didn’t. It was probably part of the reason he’d gone off on Raven at the party, and that he didn’t step in and stop Clarke, even as she went off the rails. Sometimes, the truth of people’s feelings simply had to come out. 

Even if it meant ruining all of the relationships they’d built since college. 

Luckily, the rest of their friends were pretty understanding, even though Murphy was sure most of them didn’t completely get why they’d done what they did. They didn’t feel the same things, the emotions that only Clarke could understand that he felt. Octavia protested the most on behalf of Bellamy. She was protective, and wanted them to see where he came from. But even she had admitted that she saw how badly things had impacted Clarke over the last few months. 

When they arrived at Clarke’s childhood home an hour or so outside of Arkadia, Murphy pulled up and handed the keys to the Valet. Clarke checked her phone, still fidgeting, shifting from one leg to the other. 

“It’ll be fine,” Murphy told her. 

“I know,” she said, though he could tell from her voice that she wasn’t sure at all. “I’m worried about the rest of them being late.”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course, they’re gonna be late. But at least they’ll diffuse some of the tension.” He eyed her warily and reached out to stop her from practically spinning around. “And maybe give you time to stop looking like you’re gonna pee your pants.”

Clarke glared at him but did stop jumping around so much, which he appreciated for his own sense of nervousness as well as her own. This night was going to be hard enough without both of them being complete wrecks. They needed to get a grip.

Clarke decided she wanted to wait outside for the friends, and though they were in fact all late, they rolled up in their separate Ubers and cars a few minutes later. They were dressed to nines since this party was nothing if not fancy bullshit. The kind of thing Clarke always hated, but begrudgingly attended to make her mom happy. 

Usually, Bellamy was who stood by her side at these things. For obvious reasons though, that wasn’t the case tonight. Murphy just hoped he wouldn’t totally fuck everything up. He wanted to be there for her, but he wasn’t sure the best way to go about that. Bellamy always did. Though not recently, but before, he was the one who could make it all okay for Clarke. The one who knew what she needed, whether it was a drink or intervention or reprieve to scream behind the house, before she even did. It made Murphy sad for her, that she had to decide to no longer have that person in her life. 

He felt even worse when he thought about how Raven would’ve known exactly what to say to make him feel the slightest bit more at ease at this thing. A stupid joke to make him laugh or something like that. He knew that he wasn’t over her, not even close, but he also knew that at least he had Clarke. The only one who thankfully understood all the complicated and messy feelings he was currently experiencing. Because she was going through the same thing. 

Neither one of them wanted to lose people they loved, but no matter how hard they tried, they knew they couldn’t hold onto them anymore. Not if things were going to continue as they had been. No, things had to change. And the only way either one of them knew how to do that was cut Bellamy and Raven out completely. 

“Thanks for coming, you guys,” Clarke said once they were all assembled. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Please, Clarke, of course, we did,” Jasper told her and then grinned at Maya. “Plus, I look good in a suit.”

Clarke laughed and Murphy watched as a small amount of the tension she’d been holding it let loose from her shoulders. 

“Well, still…” Clarke swallowed and grew awkward with her gratitude. “It means a lot.”

Octavia came over and lightly shoved Clarke’s bare shoulder where the strap of her dress cut off. “Come on, don’t get all mushy on us. You gotta be stone cold for this shit show.”

Lincoln shot her a look and Octavia backpedalled. “Not that this is going to be a shit show. It’ll be fine. More than fine. It’ll be _fun_.” 

Clarke didn’t seem the slightest bit convinced of that, so Harper added, “And if it goes bad, we’ll be right there to back you up.”

_That_ did seem to alleviate some of Clarke’s fears. Murphy thought about adding a joke. Something to lighten the moment and bring them all out of thinking about the last party they’d been at. The one that had most definitely been a complete shit show. Before he could though, he heard someone come out and turned around. 

Abby peaked out of the door and greeted them all with a warm smile. Murphy noticed it didn’t quite reach her eyes in the way it used to, but he knew that couldn’t be entirely surprising. She’d been through a lot, after all.

Having grown up with his mom and seeing her struggles with alcohol, he never judged Abby for falling from such a tall height into addiction. He knew that that wasn’t fair. Of course, the part that also wasn’t fair was how it had blown back on Clarke. She put on a brave face through it all, but Bellamy had been so damn protective when it was all going down that Murphy knew there was much more to it than she ever revealed to the rest of them. 

He liked Abby though, despite everything, and gave her a quick hug when she came over to them. If only so that Octavia didn’t punch her instead. Things were going to be tough tonight, and he was willing to jump in front of a couple of blows if it meant keeping everyone in check.

She went to hug Clarke next, and though Clarke hesitated for a moment, she accepted it eventually. Her mom wrapped her arms around her. It was brief, but still, better than Murphy’d seen them interact in years. 

“Clarke,” Abby said as she pulled away. “You look beautiful. I knew I was right about the dress.”

Clarke smiled and nodded, fiddling with the fabric on the blue, gauzy dress. Murphy knew she didn’t exactly love it. But she’d certainly worn worse things for her mom. He thought she looked good, and told her so earlier, to which she replied that she knew he’d prefer the French Maid costume. He told her that he couldn’t argue with that, but it at least had her smiling a little before they left their place.

“Thanks.” Clarke offered a smile and gestured to Abby’s elegant black dress. “You look amazing, too.”

Things were still a little stiff between them, but that was to be expected. Murphy was hoping that would go away with time. They just needed time, he told himself. They all did, really, when it came to Abby. Him certainly less than others though. Abby was always someone who believed in him, and unlike Raven, he hadn’t been pulled into her shit. 

They were just about to head inside when Abby looked over Clarke’s shoulder and at a car that pulled up.

“Oh, here’s the rest of your friends,” Abby said.

Murphy watched as Clarke’s eyes narrowed and then followed her mom’s gaze toward the car. To Murphy’s absolute shock, and then anger, out of the car came Raven, Shaw, and Bellamy. 

They could not be fucking serious, he thought to himself.

Apparently, he said it out loud a second later though because Clarke looked over at him and asked, “What the hell are they doing here?”

“Oh, no. This is not good,” Jasper said, a pained expression on his face that matched Monty’s.

“Very not good,” Monty confirmed.

As if anyone wasn’t entirely aware of that. As if it even needed to be said. This wasn’t just ‘not good’. This was fucking horrible. The only good thing was that Echo wasn’t with them, which Murphy guessed made it official that Bellamy and her had broken up. It didn’t make him feel nearly as pleased as he thought it would. Instead, it just made him more pissed off.

So much for tonight not being a shit show.

Bellamy kept back for a moment with Shaw, but Raven breezed right up to where Clarke and Murphy stood.

“Hello, Abby,” she said. “Happy birthday.”

Abby looked a little shocked that Raven was being so kind, not even a hint of malice in her tone, but she seemed to clutch onto it a little. “Thank you, Raven. I’m so glad you could make it. I hope you found the house okay?”

Raven nodded. “Of course, and no problems. Thank you for giving us the address.”

Those little shits. They’d gone behind their backs and called Abby. Who was so desperate to have people forgive her that she didn’t even question their motives. Murphy was gonna kill Raven. He knew coming here tonight was her idea. He shot a glare at Bellamy, who swallowed thickly and then stared down at his shoes, but not before he looked fleetingly at Clarke. She ignored it, actually flat out just pretended to not even see him.

“Well,” Abby went on, not knowing the shit pile she was wading through. “Now that you’re all here, why don’t we go inside?”

“Actually—” Octavia started and Murphy wondered if her and Lincoln weren’t going to make a run for it. 

“Sounds good,” Clarke finished before she could get another word out. She still didn’t acknowledge Bellamy but gave the rest of their friends a loaded look. If she was going to be trapped in this tonight, then so was everyone else. Which Murphy thought was only fair.

As they all went to go in, he grabbed Raven by the arm and stopped her. She glanced at him, a dip in her brow. He didn’t even give it more than a glance.

“You mind if I have a word with Raven?” he asked Abby.

She blinked, confused, but then nodded. “Of course, I’ll introduce everyone else to the other guests and get them drinks.” 

“Perfect,” Murphy replied, plastering a phony smile on his face. 

As soon as they were gone, he turned to Raven. “What the actual fuck is wrong with the two of you?” he demanded, not waiting a second longer than necessary.

He didn’t know what kind of answer she was going to give him. But that didn’t matter, really. What did was that he had cornered her and was even more ticked off than he’d been at the Engagement Dinner. How dare she do this. Especially when she must’ve known by now that he and Clarke had no interest in speaking to either her or Bellamy. They’d gone around the barriers they’d set up to keep them out. He hated it. He hated her. 

More than anything though, he hated that he knew it would've been all too easy to forgive her still, to love her still, even after everything that had happened between them.

* * *

Clarke was uninterested in Bellamy’s presence. At least, that’s what she wanted everyone, especially him, to believe. The alternative, to acknowledge him and the things she’d said at the party, was unthinkable.

“Clarke, this wasn’t my idea, but please, can we talk? I want to explain it all. I know it might not be good enough, but...I’m begging you.” he rushed out once they were inside and were led to the open bar by Abby, who was almost immediately pulled away by a family friend. 

Her friends gave wary looks, pretending that they were hanging around the bar for the sake of the free alcohol and not because she might need them. She wished she had Murphy to send a cutting remark to him, to let him know she still didn’t want to speak to him. But he had to deal with his own issue of Raven. They couldn’t help one another out of this one. 

“Monty,” she said, and turned to him. He perked up, eyeing the space between her and Bellamy. “Can you get me a whiskey, neat?” she finished. 

Monty swallowed and nodded after a moment. “Of course.”

She forced a grin. “Thanks. I’ll be right back. I’m gonna say ‘hi’ to Jaha. Tell him how Wells is doing. They had a fight or something.” 

She waved a hand nonchalantly, acting as if Bellamy wasn’t standing right next to her, a pleading look in his eyes that once tugged at all her heartstrings.

“But I know he’d want me to tell him how he is.” She threw over her shoulder with a teasing smile, “Try not to burn down the whole place.”

With that, she left Bellamy behind without so much as looking at him. 

It hurt to do it this way, but she fully believed it was the only thing she _could_ do. It was more than just what he’d done, but also what it’d encouraged _her_ to do. She was mortified at her actions at the party. The way it had brought out some of the worst in her. An uncontrollable rage she hadn’t let out in years. It scared her, and pissed her off, and made her question her and Bellamy’s entire relationship. If they really made each other act like this, then that was a sign that maybe it was time for them to no longer be in one another’s lives.

The idea threatened to break her heart, but she went back to the anger she felt to keep it at bay.

He didn’t get to hurt her any more than he already had. She refused to let him. She refused to be That Girl. Even though, given her outburst and admission that she loved him at the Engagement Dinner, she suspected she already was. She hated it, that she felt she _had_ to do that.

As she made the rounds with her mom and greeted everyone, she couldn’t help but think that the whole night had been a mistake. Driven by feelings that wouldn’t go away or be controlled, no matter how hard she tried. She regretted it. Of course, that didn’t mean that she wanted to take it all back, because, in the end, it had done its purpose. It burned everything down. 

Clarke wished it felt better, like more of a victory.

By the time she went over to her friends, Bellamy was thankfully absent. They all were still by the bar, probably doing their best to even appear as if they fit in. Which they failed at spectacularly. She smiled a bit, loving the fact that her friends weren’t the kind of people that revelled in this sort of thing. If they were, they wouldn’t be _her_ people.  
  


Monty handed her the whiskey she’d asked for and took a long sip, nearly getting halfway through it.  
  


“Thanks,” she told him.

“No worries,” he replied. “We all thought you could use it.”

She sighed. “I’m fine, guys, really.”

None of them looked even the slightest bit convinced.

“I just didn’t think they’d have the balls to actually show up here after I told you,” she turned to Octavia, “to tell them that they weren’t welcome.”

Octavia bit her lip and Clarke narrowed her eyes. “You did tell them, didn’t you?”

“I did!” she responded, too quickly. Lincoln gave her a long look. “Okay,” she relented, shooting her boyfriend a glare. “So, I might’ve also told them that they should try to fix things with you guys, but that’s...I didn’t mean for them to try to fix things _tonight_.”

For a moment, Clarke considered chewing her out for it, but she was so tired of fighting. She didn’t want to start yet another one with Octavia. Besides, she knew she was doing what she thought was right. Even if it wasn’t what Clarke would’ve done, she could respect that. And Bellamy was her brother. It was understandable she’d be the one to give him hope. If only she knew that Clarke really believed there was none to be found. 

“It’s okay,” Clarke said, letting out a slow breath. “It’s obviously created a mess, but...I get it.”

“I really, really didn’t think they’d show up tonight. And…” Octavia swallowed. “Bell did say it wasn’t his idea. I don’t think he’d lie about that.”

Clarke didn’t either. Despite everything that had happened between them, she still felt she knew him better than herself most of the time. He probably wouldn’t have come if Raven didn’t lay out the plan. She had to admit, it was a risky gamble. One she knew both of them were desperate to pay off, but Clarke also thought that her and Murphy were too far gone. They’d made their choice, they couldn’t go back on it now and forgive them. 

Though the mere idea of trying to work things through with Bellamy was truly so tempting that it made her heart stutter.

She blocked it out a second later though. Those kinds of thoughts were dangerous because they would lead nowhere good. To a place that would only hurt her more than she already had been—she simply couldn’t afford that possibility. 

“I just…” Clarke trailed off, unsure of it she should say this to any of them. Murphy knew, but she also knew where he stood with Raven. It was a whole other thing to tell the rest of them.

Emori handed her another whiskey, though she hadn’t been sure when she’d finished the first one. “Clarke,” she said softly. Well, as much as she ever was soft with Clarke, “You can tell us. We’ll respect it, whatever it is.”

“I don’t think I can be friends with him any more,” she confessed after another moment of hesitation. 

Some hidden rage that was still lurking emerged and she went on, “He’s been nothing but an asshole to me and Murphy for months. He isn’t the person I thought he was. The person I believed would be by my side no matter what. These past few months he’s made it clear that that’s conditional. It’s like…” 

She found the words dying in her throat, but then forced them out, “I don’t even know who he is anymore. And I don’t think I want to know this new person.”

“I won’t ask any of you to pick a side or understand and I’ll even try to accept it if you don’t want to be friends with me anymore but…” 

She shook her head. “I have to be done. It hurts too much, to consider otherwise. I know he regrets it, I know he’s sorry.” 

Her expression softened and turned sad, and she felt those feelings eclipse the anger.

Steeling herself, she continued, “But that doesn’t make any of it better. It doesn’t repair what’s been broken. I’m sorry,” this she said mostly to Octavia, “but it’s over. Forever.”

She didn’t notice their expressions until Harper swallowed thickly and looked at Monty, who seemed pained by something. It was then that she turned around. There, behind her, stunned and heartbroken and eyes swimming with pain, was Bellamy.

As bad as things were between them, she never intended him to hear any of that. It revealed too much. How badly she’d been worn down and hurt by his actions. It made her look weak, and she hated it and wished for a reprieve. Like he’d only heard the last part, even as bad as it was, but one look told her different. He’d heard it all. 

She flicked her eyes up and down his frame, unable to keep herself from not looking at him anymore. But she could control _how_ she looked at him. Clarke made herself reveal nothing of how she really felt. The anguish that coursed through her at the idea that he’d heard her talking about him like that. 

Maybe it was better this way though. A clearer break. A severe one, yes, but at least now there would be no more questioning. No more desperate pleas for her to hear him out. Now, she could walk away, and he wouldn’t follow. 

After barely a moment of looking at him, she had to go back to her friends. It was too painful to take in how badly she’d hurt him. Mostly because she knew that he thought he deserved all of it. She wasn’t sure who deserved what at this point, and was too scared to examine it further.

“I…” She swallowed. “I should go find Murphy.” 

Then she did what she did best when it came to her and Bellamy. When it came to her actions and pain and impossible choices. She ran.

* * *

Murphy was going to yell at her until there was no air left outside, he was sure of it. Not that he was above thinking it wasn’t deserved by now. But seriously. He was finding out that he could really rant, when he wanted to. It was good to know, for future reference. 

“—And another fucking thing,” he continued. “I can’t believe you also convinced Bellamy to come. Plus you just had to bring along Shaw, didn’t you? What? Have you not told him you’ve got the hots for me yet? Waiting for the second year anniversary for that surprise?”

Raven opened her mouth to reply, but he didn’t give her the opportunity to say a word. 

“No way. I get to talk now. I told you at the goddamn Engagement Dinner _two days ago_ that I didn’t want to see you or speak to you. I told you we were done. Is that so hard for you to understand? Is there something that was unclear about my statement?” 

He shook his head in disbelief. “Here it is again, in case you didn’t hear it the first time: We. Are. Nothing. Now.” 

“Murphy, please,” she said.

“No,” he replied.

Turning away from her, he expected for that to be it, for her to let him go back inside. Where he needed to focus on running interference between Clarke and Bellamy and Clarke and her mom and maybe Clarke and whiskey.

“I didn’t know,” she went on, not that he was even listening, at this point. At least, he told himself he wasn’t. Of course, the truth was more complicated than that. 

“I didn’t know how badly I was screwing up. I didn’t know that…” She swallowed. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have come tonight. I shouldn’t have brought Shaw. But I’m so sorry, Murphy. For all of it.”

He laughed dryly, and turned back to look at her. She seemed pitiful, which he didn’t think was possible for Raven. It gave him a gross kind of satisfaction. It didn’t take everything away though.

It didn’t stop him from saying, “I don’t believe you. Maybe you’re sorry, but what then? You gonna go home with Shaw tonight and keep playing pretend and then judge _me_ for finding someone else because you don’t have the guts to admit how you really feel?”

“I…” she started. “I don’t know.”

He pointed a finger at her. “Exactly. That’s what’s been unfair about this whole fucking thing, Raven. You don’t know what you’re gonna do. Instead, you just hurt me and hurt yourself and use Shaw to hide from it all.”

Her expression turned heated, stormy, and he felt better for it.

“That’s not true,” she argued. “I care about Shaw. He makes me—”

“Happy?” Murphy finished and grinned when she clamped her mouth shut. “That’s what I thought. Come now, Raven, you don’t have to lie to me anymore. In fact, I think we’re at the stage where I deserve a hell of a lot more than that.”

“I am trying to figure out what’s going on and how I feel and—” she rushed out, but he decided to cut her off.

Not because he didn’t believe her, because, at this point, he knew she was just lying to herself. It wasn’t so much about admitting how she felt to him as it was acknowledging it in her own heart. It made him sad for her, for the both of them. If she’d only realized things sooner, if she hadn’t been so stubborn on being with Shaw and hiding from them, then maybe things could’ve been different. Maybe _everything_ would’ve been different. But they weren’t, and he was afraid of what her words could do to him. What they could make him accept and understand. So, he chose not to hear any of it at all. 

“Save it,” he told her. “I don’t care.”

Her face crumpled and she brushed at her cheek even though it was still dry. He saw the tears that were building in her eyes, and almost hated himself for being the cause. Almost.

“Murphy, I am begging you to—”

“Raven?” Shaw called from the doorway. 

Both Murphy and Raven looked over him. Her expression turned from teetering on the edge of a mess into a full blown one. Her eyes went wide and she glanced fleetingly at Murphy. Apparently, Shaw had had enough too, because he shook his head and rubbed a hand over his forehead.

“You know what?” he asked no one. “Fuck it.”

He turned and went back inside the house, leaving the two of them alone once more.

“Go ahead,” Murphy waved a hand towards where Shaw had disappeared. “Go after him.”

“No, I want to talk to you first,” she replied.

He stepped back away from her. “Fine,” he said. “Then I’ll go. I refuse to do this,” he gestured between the two of them, “anymore. Not when you haven’t figured out what’s really going on here yet. Not when you’re still living in denial. So, I’m saying, ‘fuck it,’ too. Have a good night, Raven.”

He turned his back to her, knowing that if he continued to stand there and argue, he might break. He couldn’t let that happen. Not just for himself, but for Clarke, too. They were in this together, and had agreed on a plan of action as a team. He couldn’t go back on that now. Certainly not after Raven still didn’t get it, and refused to see the truth of it. 

“Murphy!” she yelled out. “I think I...I want you.”

He paused and felt himself flinch. Without turning to face her, because he knew if he did he was a goner, he responded, “That’s too bad.”

Murphy didn’t wait around for another word. He was done, needed to be, actually. Because accepting how Raven had handled this would destroy any semblance of self-control and self-worth that he had left. It might’ve hurt like hell to leave her like that, when she was saying the words he’d imagined and wanted for months, but that didn’t matter. 

What did? The fact that he somehow had the power to walk away.

* * *

Bellamy’s heart shattered in the wake of Clarke’s words of the dissolution of their friendship. The final nail in the coffin, cliché as it was. Knowing that he deserved it, that she had every right to do it, didn’t make it any easier to accept or feel. If anything, it made it hurt all the worse because he knew he’d done it to himself. It was preventable, but he had to go and ruin it all. Had to ruin one of the two most important relationships in his life. He still had Octavia, but losing Clarke? For good? That was going to destroy him. 

And he couldn’t even try to convince himself that she didn’t have every right to do it.

He sat in shock for a moment. Someone put him in a chair. He wasn’t sure which one of his friends did it. Maybe Miller. Or Maya, even, who unfortunately had gotten dragged into the mess, but was unwaveringly kind despite it all.

“Bellamy—” Emori started, her voice filled with concern.

He waved her off. “It’s not like I should’ve expected anything else,” he found himself saying, surprised he was even able to speak a word after what he’d just heard.

Clarke didn’t want him in her life anymore, and there was nothing he could do about that. There was no point fighting it or pretending otherwise. He just had to experience the pain, even as he knew it was wrecking its way through his chest. Because of his own feelings that he didn’t have the courage to figure out, he had destroyed something so incredibly special to him. So much so that he often didn’t think there was a word to describe who Clarke was to him. It didn’t matter anymore, because she had found a new descriptor for them: Nothing. 

Jasper opened his mouth but Monty placed a hand on his arm and he re-thought it.

Miller let out a slow breath before he took the seat beside him. “I’m sorry,” he said. Then he pushed a drink over to Bellamy, who refused it initially, but eventually caved and took a sip.

It was that admission, the acknowledgement, that convinced Bellamy he wasn’t imagining things. That Clarke really was done with him. If Miller believed it, then it had to be true. He was grateful to his friend’s sympathy, but it didn’t do any good. Just made him feel as if he didn’t deserve him. That he didn’t deserve any of them. Which he knew was more than a little dramatic, but something he couldn’t keep out of his head.

“Don’t be.” He sighed. “I did this to myself. The only person I can blame is me and I…” 

He blinked rapidly, keeping his despair at bay the best he could, given the circumstances. 

He made himself continue, “She doesn’t want me anymore, and there’s nothing I can do or say to change that.” He ran a hand over his face. “Not that I’m sure there’s anything I could even try to do.”

A loaded pause kept everyone quiet. No one knew what to say or do to make him feel any better, but he knew even if they attempted it that it would be useless. Like Clarke said, he wasn’t the person she thought he was—how could he ever rectify that?

Then Octavia ushered Miller out of his seat, practically forcing him out of it so she could take a seat next to Bellamy. 

“Everyone, scram,” she said, looking up at them. 

When they didn’t move after a moment, she raised a brow. Lincoln gave her a long stare which she returned. Then, he ushered everyone else away so it was just the two siblings. 

“You can’t give up,” she said.

He shook his head and went to reply, but she beat him to it. 

“No, I am right and I won’t shut up about it until you agree, too.”

“O...You heard her. She doesn’t want that. She wants me to quit it. She wants to be free of me, and who am I to go against that?” he asked, mournful and somber but convinced he was right. 

“Did you give up on me?” she demanded.

That killed his next response before it was even fully formed.

He eventually got out, “It was different, O. You didn’t push me out because of something that _I_ did. You didn’t get to the place you did because of me.”

She stared him down, unwavering and not buying it. “Doesn’t matter. Even when we weren’t speaking, after I was arrested and caught up in all of Ontari’s shit. Did you ever truly give up on me? Even when I told you it was useless to try? Even when I told you I wasn’t me anymore?”

He sighed, and she clearly got the answer she wanted because a small smile graced her lips.

“No,” she went on, “you didn’t. You kept trying. You and Clarke wouldn’t let me go, no matter how much I wanted you to. Despite all lack of hope, you didn’t give up.”

Octavia nodded, and her eyes softened. “So, I won’t let you quit on Clarke now. Not ever. If you need someone to have hope for the two of you, then I will. As long as it takes. I’m not saying it’s going to be simple or easy. But you have to _try_. For her, as much as yourself. I know she doesn’t want you in her life right now, but she still cares about you. Still loves you.”

At that, his heart clenched. He wished he could believe her words. That he could let himself feel Clarke’s love still. But he couldn’t. After both the night of the dinner and tonight, he only knew that Clarke didn’t need him anymore. Didn’t want him, even. 

Octavia must’ve known where his mind went though. She reached out and placed her hand over his. “You’re in love with her, right?”

Bellamy nodded without hesitation. This, he knew. He loved Clarke. More than anyone, except maybe O. But it was a different kind of love for Clarke. Something so profound and mysterious he didn’t know how to describe it. Even if she didn’t love him anymore, she had once, and he loved her, and that was all he knew to be true. 

“She’s scared and hurt. She doesn’t know why you did what you did or even has all the facts. You love her…” Octavia took a breath. “So fight for her.”

* * *

Despite her reluctance to do so, Raven knew she had to speak to Shaw. He deserved better, and she needed him to hear it from her. Needed to give him the ending and closure he deserved. 

Eventually, she found him, but once she did and they spoke, she really wished she hadn't.

He was out in the back of the house, which opened onto a large outdoor patio and yard. Fairy lights had been strewn up through the branches of the trees, and it seemed Clarke got her gardening skills from her mother, or maybe, the people she employed to do the landscaping for her.

Sipping from a half-empty champagne flute, he didn't look over at her as she approached. 

“I’m so sorry,” she told him. “Things with Murphy are...They’re complicated.” She swallowed. “But I’m not here to talk about Murphy. I want to talk about us.”

He just nodded, not saying a word. It made her bristle a little. She thought they owed one another more than that. That they cared for one another at least enough to do this right.

"Can you at least look at me?" she asked, more pleading than anything else. 

And to his credit, he did.

Somehow, she still couldn’t tell him the truth. The feelings she’d been hiding from for so long. She couldn’t let them in fully. If she did, there would be no going back to how things once were. There would just be hell and pain and the feeling that she missed out on something great.

“I know I’ve been a bitch for a while. That I haven’t been fair to you. But my friends are...I don’t know, really. It’s confusing.” 

She cleared her throat. “Not that it’s...Look, it’s on me, what’s been happening, and I know that. But I know it isn’t fair that I’ve been upset with them. I just think I’m so scared of them changing everything.”

He shook his head a little and looked down before back up at her. His eyes were sad, and she felt like they were just going through the motions. "You're not upset with them because they've changed things, Raven." 

She was a little surprised, not able to hear this right now. Especially not after Murphy had made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want her as a friend, let alone anything else. It hurt too much. More than there were words for it. To even consider that possibility that her feelings might be more complicated than she ever thought possible. 

Her admission to Murphy came roaring back. How she’d told him she wanted him. That was the truth, yes. But it also could’ve meant a lot of things. If only _she_ knew how she meant it. 

She raised her brows and found herself saying, "Then why?"

Raven didn’t know if she actually wanted an answer to her question. It was going to fracture everything, as soon as he did. But when he didn’t say anything, she grew impatient. Like she wanted to hear it. Maybe she did. Maybe she couldn’t let it be true until someone else said out loud. She hated that it had to be Shaw though. That wasn’t fair. It was more than cruel. It was awful. 

Finally, he did reply with something. The thing she knew she’d been hiding from for at least four months and probably longer than that. Probably a long time. 

"Are you in love with him?" he asked.

When it came down to it, she revelled in the denial. She burrowed down into it and refused to come out. If she did, then she didn’t think anything could ever be as it was. 

Raven always hated change. 

"Of course not!” she burst out, convincing neither one of them. She was going down this path now though and couldn’t stop. “I mean, that's absolutely ridiculous. It's fucking _Murphy_."

The words felt foreign on her tongue. Like they didn’t belong there in the first place. She wondered if that wasn’t exactly the case. This wasn’t at all like she imagined her relationship with Shaw going. He was a good boyfriend, a good person. He didn’t deserve this. But he knew the truth, and he wasn’t going to let her off easy. 

He chewed on his lip. "Exactly."

Raven grew more desperate. Yes, she admitted to Murphy that she wanted him, but that didn’t mean she _loved_ him. She needed it not to be true. If it was true, and she hurt someone she loved the way she’d hurt Murphy then...She was like her mom. Maybe not in the same ways or enacting the same amount of damage, but close enough. She was the kind of person she vowed to never become.

"Look,” she stuttered out. “I do not love Murphy, okay?" She looked him in the eyes and tried to plead with them better than she could with her words. 

She wasn’t always good with words, but expressions and action? That she could do just fine. Though, this time, it wasn’t enough. Shaw was intent on making her face herself before they broke up. She knew it was probably more than fair, and that it was a long time coming. It didn’t make it any less difficult to face.

He let out a long breath and stared her down. "Do you love me?"

Her tongue felt like sandpaper, and it took her a moment to get the words out. "I told you when we started this that I needed time, that I've been burned before, and..." 

"That's a 'no'," he said, cutting her off.

"It's not!" she argued. "I'm just not there yet."

She hated that this was how it fell apart, that arguing over whether she loved Murphy was how the best relationship she’d ever had ended. It somehow was the most understandable and unreal experience she’d ever had. 

"We've been dating for over a year. I don't think you're ever gonna get there," he replied. “You know where this was going to go when you came out here. There’s no use arguing over it anymore.”

Despite his words though, she couldn’t let it go. Couldn’t just accept it. If she did, then it would ruin her completely. 

"I don't love Murphy," she repeated. "I don't believe you."

It was childish and cowardly. She should’ve just faced the truth of what she felt, but instead, she had to have her boyfriend tell her she was in love with her friend. All because she couldn’t confront the reality of it herself. 

Shaw huffed. “It doesn’t matter what you believe. It matters what you _feel_ and it’s clear to me who you have those feelings for, and it isn’t me.”

Raven swallowed. "I don't love Murphy.”

But even she could hear the desperation in her voice. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. After everything, after him being such an ass and her hating him for so long, she couldn't now...Love him. It was impossible.

But then again, wasn’t it? It didn’t make any sense, she knew that was still true. After everything between them, the hatred and lies and all of it, she believed it was no small miracle that they were friends. This was Murphy. She couldn’t be in love with him.

But then again, this _was_ Murphy. 

Shaw had already turned away from her and started to go back into the house. She trailed after him, like the pathetic little girl she was.

"I don't," she kept saying as they moved through the house, but he didn't listen to her. 

“Please tell me that I don’t,” she said when they got to the front foyer.

He paused and then told her, "You know I can’t do that.” 

He turned to open the door, but then looked back at her and said, “I really hope you find a way to be happy. You deserve it." 

And he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise it won't be all angst all the time after the next chapter (which will finish off the party), but I hope the story is still satisfying despite the pain!
> 
> thank you for reading ❤︎
> 
> find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)


	14. It's Just the Price I Pay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies! I know it's been almost an entire month since I updated, and for that, I am truly sorry. I wanted this chapter to be the best it could be, and between work and life stuff, it took me longer than I would've liked to get it to a good place. That said, I am excited to share this one and can't wait to keep this story going.
> 
> This is the last of the 'angst city' that we've been living in for the past couple of chapters. It wraps up Abby's birthday party with a bang, which includes deceit and lines forever crossed. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> In case you didn't know, there's a wonderful initiative going on for t100 fandom called t100fic-for-blm. Learn more about us and how to prompt a writer or content creator with our carrd [here](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/).
> 
> You can find the playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5GqGLwbeDBNfqUp0iVjVqF?si=rV2F5pNJRqGkdZmIevP-Bg).
> 
> *Chapter title is from 'Mr. Brightside' by The Killers*
> 
> Sending all the love and good thoughts your way 💜

Whether Murphy had done the right thing by cursing out Raven remained to be seen. At least, from his perspective. Clarke did her best to assure him he was fine, that he’d done what he needed to do _for him_ , but he wasn’t so sure. In fact, he started to think that they’d both gone about this all wrong, even if in the end, they’d both gotten what they wanted. He wished it felt better though, like more of a win.

“She can’t be all that surprised,” Clarke said. “You know that, right? Maybe she might’ve wanted to live in denial as long as she could, but you had every right to do what you did.”

Murphy took a sip from his glass of champagne that she had pressed in his hand after giving him one look as he came back inside. He was still in shock, somewhat, from Raven’s words. Part of him already knew them to be true, maybe even to a greater extent than Raven admitted. It couldn’t keep the surprise that she’d actually said it at bay. It wasn’t everything, not even a full confession. More like half of one, maybe even less. But it was _something_ and while months back he would’ve reciprocated immediately, he found the only choice in the moment was to walk away. 

It was only now that he was having regrets. 

He swallowed and replied, “Still. I could’ve…”

“We’re still in this together, right?” she asked.

It occurred to him that he might’ve not been the only one worried that they’d done the wrong thing. Not that Bellamy and Raven didn’t deserve a wake-up call. But maybe the way they’d gone about it all. How they’d chosen to make them realize the extent to which they’d hurt them. 

“Yeah, of course,” he responded, sure of at least that. 

He didn’t want to make Clarke go through this alone. It felt good to have her in his corner, and he felt the same for her. If he had to do something that hurt both him and Raven, he was grateful to have Clarke by his side. She understood where no one else could even attempt to—she felt the same things he did. Or, almost the same things. Their situations were nuanced, but the feelings held true for both of them. 

Even if he was having doubts about his plan to do away with Raven’s friendship, he knew he couldn’t back out on Clarke. Not now. Not when she still wanted to let go of Bellamy, even if it killed her. Murphy wondered, not for the first time, if it wouldn’t do just that. Her and Bellamy were such a unit, it was hard to imagine them not being friends. Being nothing. But if that was what Clarke wanted, then he’d respect it. 

“I just…” he trailed off, feeling helpless to continue. He was scared that if he did, he might say things he couldn’t take back. Words he wouldn’t be able to hide from.

“You can tell me,” Clarke said, quickly. She steeled her expression and raised a brow. “Just say it already.” She swallowed. “You think I’m making a mistake.”

Murphy frowned and she took this as confirmation because she continued, “You think I should give Bellamy another chance which...I mean, I know you care about him so I can’t be surprised. And the worst thing? I _want_ to. I want to let him in. But I can’t guarantee that he won’t keep hurting me. I can’t pretend like he hasn’t been messing with my head for months. Even if it wasn’t intentional, even if he was confused himself.”

“Clarke,” he interrupted before she could spiral out even more. “I wasn’t going to say that.”

She blinked. “You weren’t?”

He shook his head and ran a hand across his mouth. “I was actually going to say the same things. Except about Raven.”

Clarke’s resolve crumpled a little. “You’re having regrets, too?”

He nodded. “Unfortunately.”

He didn’t know what it meant that they were both doubting themselves just as they reached the home stretch. Probably nothing good, nothing that would make any of this any simpler. Instead, it complicated the situation more, though Murphy previously didn’t think that was possible. Their tangled web of friendships and love and sex. It all piled together in a way he didn’t know where to even begin to try and make sense of it. 

Clarke worried her lip for a moment before she got out, “What do we do?” 

Her voice gave her real wishes away. He knew she wanted him to give her permission to let Bellamy back in. But if he did that, then he’d let Raven back in. It was selfish, yes, to keep her from trying to forgive Bellamy, but he didn’t think he deserved it, at that point. He was still someone Murphy considered one of his closest friends, despite everything. If he told Clarke that though, then he knew she’d cave, and he’d do the same. 

Where would that leave them? Probably in a similar place that they started. He couldn’t accept that. He couldn’t _allow_ that. 

So, in a move he knew he might regret, he shook his head and said, “Fuck ‘em. We might be having difficulty letting them go because we’re human, but that doesn’t mean we give in. If anything, it means we’ve gotta hold on even tighter to our resolve.”

Clarke didn’t believe him, he could tell. This was only confirmed when she replied, “You think so?”

He snorted, playing it off and dismissing the emotions behind the conversation. If he let his feelings dictate this talk, then that would lead nowhere good. Just to more pain and embarrassment and whatever messed up combination Raven made him feel at any given moment. 

“Please,” he said. “Of course, I think so. In fact, I _know_ so. This is what they want, you know that, right? They want us to let go of the rage, just for long enough to get inside our heads.” He sucked on his teeth and sort of hated himself for what he said next. “You said it yourself: you can’t guarantee that Bellamy won’t keep hurting you. Isn’t that answer enough?”

Clarke hesitated, and he thought for a moment his words had the opposite effect of what he intended. But then she nodded. 

“You’re right.” She sighed. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking...I guess I just want to believe, even for a second, that I can still have him in my life.” She took his champagne from him and drained it. “Come on, let’s go make fun of Jaha to his face without him realizing it.”

Murphy agreed happily to that. He knew he could be a good wingman in this situation, and felt a certain amount of pride at being able to help Clarke navigate it. They talked with Jaha for a while, who actually made a comment or two that convinced Murphy he might be willing to invest in him to run his own restaurant. But that seemed far, far too good to be true.

They’d escaped his various questions about their relationship status by making an excuse that they needed some air. Instead, they met up with some of their friends, who, luckily, hadn’t landed themselves in any trouble. The night was still young, but he was starting to have a better feeling about the party. 

“How’d you two survive Jaha?” Monty asked as they approached.

Clarke shrugged. “It wasn’t too bad. Placated him with stories of how Wells is doing. He seemed happy enough with that.”

“Plus,” Murphy couldn’t resist adding, “she had my excelled skills at communicating with assholes to help her.”

Harper grinned. “Well, it takes one to know one.”

Octavia offered her a high-five and she accepted it, a satisfied look on her face.

Murphy’s own expression soured, but then Clarke laughed and kissed him on the cheek.

Their friends made various gagging noises and faces of disgust. All except Maya, who smiled a little and said what sounded suspiciously like an ‘aw’. 

Jasper gave her an alarmed look.

“What?” Maya asked. She gestured to him and Clarke. “They’re cute.”

Murphy was vaguely offended by the remark, but Miller beat him with his own response.

“Golden retriever puppies are cute,” Miller said. “My two-year-old niece is cute. Jackson when he blushes is cute.” At that, Jackson actually did blush a little. “Murphy and Clarke, however?” He wrinkled his nose. “Most definitely _not_ cute.”

Maya rolled her eyes. “You guys are way too averse to feelings, anyone ever tell you that?”

“Yes,” Emori replied for all of them. “Many, many times.” She smirked. “I’ve actually been told it’s one of my finer attributes.”

“Is that really something to brag about?” Maya questioned, turning to look at Jasper, who exchanged a fleeting glance with Emori and then shrugged. 

Maya smiled and Jasper relaxed. “God, you all would be a fascinating science experiment.”

“Don’t we know it,” Murphy said, grinning at his friends. 

“Though knowing us, the scientists would probably malfunction and give up their careers once they got the results in,” Clarke added. 

Monty smirked with a certain amount of pride. “But we would still make it in a journal.” He extended a hand. “I can see it now. ‘Group of Ragtag Individualists Defy Science and All Matters of Reality with Their Codependency Reaching New Heights’.” 

Jasper raised his hand and they connected their other hands at the same time, matching grins on their faces. With the movement, Murphy felt the tension release from the room. For the first time that night, he actually felt like he was having fun. It was hard to imagine, given that he suspected Raven and Bellamy were somewhere around. Doing who knew what. Thinking things he couldn’t even begin to guess at. 

Shaw might’ve even still been hanging out if Raven hadn’t been able to convince him to talk to her yet. Now that he knew the reality of Raven’s feelings for him, he didn’t hate the guy anymore. If anything, he felt a sort of weird kinship with him. Not that they were gonna become besties or anything. But there was something about being played with, whether intentionally or not, by the same woman. 

For a few more blissful minutes, they continued to joke around. Murphy slung an arm around Clarke’s shoulders and ruffled her hair when Emori made fun of her dress and the glitz and glamor that made them all stick out so absurdly. Things were light amongst the friends, earlier tensions and mistakes and words he thought would change everything forgotten. It couldn’t go on forever, he knew that. But he was thankful their friends seemed to understand where he and Clarke were coming from. At least, they were trying to, which was all he could really ask of them. 

Especially since he knew how difficult their situation was. It wasn’t as simple for the rest of them. Octavia most of all. Clarke had been most concerned about her, that she would lose her as a friend by cutting out Bellamy. So far though, Murphy felt confident that they’d find a way to make a new normal. Even if it still didn’t feel quite right, and his doubts weighed heavily in a corner of his mind he’d rather forget. 

Those doubts, and his feelings about them, were abandoned though. Because one moment he was laughing at the unexpected zinger Maya had made at Murphy’s expense, and the next, Echo came into the room.

Clarke stilled at his side and Murphy felt his rage begin to build. While there still were a lot of things that weren’t clear following Bellamy and Echo’s Engagement Dinner, one thing that was was that she and Bellamy were done. At least, he believed that was the case until she showed up here. 

“The hell is she doing here?” Octavia asked.

Clarke and her looked at one another, Octavia tilting her head to the side slightly. Clarke took a slow breath before she moved away from Murphy. And, unfortunately, walked right in Echo’s direction. 

Because none of this could be easy for him, he thought bitterly. 

As soon as Clarke got to Echo though, Bellamy was there, too.

“Great,” Murphy got out, adjusting the sleeves of his jacket. “Now it’s a real party.” 

He smirked at Echo and then winked at Bellamy. He felt it was what they deserved, given what they’d done to him, to Clarke.

“Murphy—” Bellamy started, but Clarke silenced him with just a look. Then she turned to Echo. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

Echo glanced around the crowd, which Murphy saw it for what it was: buying time to come up with something that resembled an answer. 

“Nia wanted me to come. Despite…” Echo shook her head. “There are some political contacts she wants me to make nice with.” She looked back at Clarke. “Besides, I _was_ invited.”

Murphy almost gave her a swift kick to the shin. Clarke, no doubt sensing this, reached out a hand and gripped his arm. He gained control of his temper quickly enough, and she released him. He knew the last thing she needed was for him to start a fight at her mom’s birthday party. The still fresh bruise under his eye was another reminder that fights often did little good for anyone. 

“Well, I really don’t think it’s a good idea,” Clarke replied, her voice not giving away the rage he was sure she felt. 

She still hadn’t so much as looked in Bellamy’s direction. Murphy thought that wouldn’t lead anywhere good, but he also knew better than to question her moves, especially in front of Echo and Bellamy. If she was going off the deep end, he knew he was probably hopeless to stop her. He knew Bellamy could’ve, if things weren’t as they were, but he was no longer an option. Murphy yearned for easier times. Then he reminded himself that it was in part because of his orchestrations that Bellamy was no longer an option. Really, now was not the time for the second-guessing to really set it, but nothing about any of this was convenient. 

“Since when am I not the one who can’t control myself?” Echo asked. 

Murphy wanted to get in her face, but Bellamy already was before he could even move, backing her away from him and Clarke. 

Bellamy got out quickly and as quietly as possible, “I get that you want to hurt me, and somehow, that you blame Clarke and maybe even Murphy for us ending the way that we did, but seriously, Echo. Don’t do this.”

“Do what Bellamy?” she asked, giving him a cold, hard stare. “I haven’t even done anything yet.”

It was that ‘yet’ that really got to Murphy. Echo planned shit out, he remembered. She played the long game. It meant that she probably was already putting the pieces together. For what? He wished he knew. Well, he didn’t want to know because that meant that he’d probably have to do something to fix it. Still. The alternative was finding the traces of poison she’d laced in their champagne moments before he took his last breath. 

This scenario might’ve been a little melodramatic. But given everything that had happened the night of the engagement party and that night so far, he thought he might not have been giving her _enough_ credit. When it came to ruining parties, it seemed they could all make quite the career of it.

“Echo, please—” Bellamy started, but she cut him off. 

“Oh, now that it concerns Clarke you’re so willing to beg, are you?” Echo questioned, scoffing. “Whether she wants to acknowledge her little display or not,” with this, Echo shot a sneer at Clarke, “she ruined what was supposed to be one of the best nights of my life. What was supposed to celebrate the start of our life together. So, no, Bellamy. I will not respond to ‘please’. But I’m not here to ruin things more than you already have. I don’t have the time nor the energy. I’m here for work. That’s it. And since you made it perfectly clear I no longer concern you, I will not hear you out.”

Echo walked around Bellamy and back over to Murphy and Clarke.

“Work?” Clarke asked.

Echo nodded. “Just work. I don’t give a damn about the rest.”

Murphy wanted to protest, but he could already tell Clarke had made her decision. There was no getting around that. At least, not in a way that Murphy believed would be successful. Again, he sort of wished he was Bellamy. Or that Bellamy was still who he’d been to Clarke before this all started. He knew if she had that guy by her side, then maybe she wouldn’t have agreed to let Echo stay. Maybe it wouldn’t have gotten as bad as it did, later on. 

“Fine. Just stay away from me,” Clarke responded. She narrowed her eyes at Echo for a moment, challenging her. It wasn’t needed, evidently. 

Echo rolled her eyes. “Won’t be a problem.”

With that, she stalked off in the direction of some political pundit, leaving Murphy and Clarke, and Bellamy. He still felt wary about Echo’s presence here. It wasn’t something he thought he’d ever get good with, even if the night went perfectly. He didn’t voice his concerns though, thinking that they wouldn’t do any good. 

“Clarke—” Bellamy said, but she turned to Murphy, ignoring him. 

The dismissal was all over his face, and Murphy felt bad for him. Not in the way that made him want to fight for him with Clarke, because he knew that was beyond hope by now. It wasn’t even in a way that made him think Bellamy deserved the feeling. Rather, it was in a way he knew Bellamy was still his friend. Even if it felt like they weren’t anymore. 

That was one thing they hadn’t really worked out. Was she still friends with Raven? Was it alright for him to hang out with Bellamy? Really, it wasn’t the only bump in the grand plan that they hadn’t completely ironed out. They’d been so focused on the hurt, on making them feel the same, that they forgot about the details.

Which was...Pretty damn stupid of them, honestly. 

But they weren’t the only ones who hadn’t been thinking lately. In fact, they really were just giving Bellamy and Raven what they’d been dishing out themselves. Right down to the lack of critical analysis about what their actions did, or how to deal with them once they were finished. 

That could come later though, for now, he had to make sure Clarke didn’t throttle Bellamy in front of the chief of staff for the governor. After a moment though, he realized that this wouldn’t be a problem. Bellamy was talking, but to her, it might as well have been from the other side of a wall. 

She didn’t react, didn’t flinch. Bellamy didn’t exist to her at all. 

“Murphy,” she kept her eyes on him, even though Bellamy truly was begging for her attention, “if you need me, I’m gonna go talk to my mom.” Her eyes flashed to Bellamy for just a fraction of a second, but Murphy was sure Bellamy noticed. How could he not when Clarke was shutting him out so resoluting?

Then she turned on her heel and left them both. He considered cutting and running. That was the move that most comforted him. Really, the one that he should’ve gone with. Because in that moment’s hesitation, Bellamy launched into more apologies with that broken tone of his that seemed to be permanent now. 

“Bellamy—” Murphy started and he hated the look in Bellamy’s eyes. All pleading and desperate and sad. 

“I really need to talk to Clarke,” he replied. 

Murphy shook his head. “I think she’s made it pretty clear she has no interest in that. I know you think you can get her to change her mind, or that there’s still some hope left. I’m sure our friends have at least given you that.” 

When Bellamy flinched, Murphy nodded. He suspected _someone_ was encouraging him to continue this Sisyphus-esque campaign. But there would be no last reprieve to his torment. Clarke had made it clear. She didn’t care if he spent forever pushing the boulder of their lost relationship up a hill, she was never going to give in. Murphy hated to think he was the one who had to give him the reality check, who had to tell him there truly was no hope left. 

Part of him knew that Clarke was having doubts and that if he was a good friend, to both of them, he would at least give Bellamy a hint of this. Clue him in on the fact that Clarke might just still love him. Murphy didn’t want that to be true though. He knew if he allowed it, if he told Bellamy, then nothing was going to stop him from trying to make it up to Clarke. As much as he wanted his friends to be happy, he also wanted to serve his own interests. If Clarke took Bellamy back, then he knew he’d do the same with Raven. His pride and self-preservation couldn’t allow that. 

Taking a breath, he forced down his conscience that screamed of him to think better of it and blocked out any possibilities for a different path. 

He told Bellamy, “Dude, come on, give it up already.”

Bellamy opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it. Murphy realized he was giving him the space to continue. Though he knew it probably wasn’t in anyone’s best interest for him to do so, he pulled his signature move and did it anyway. 

“You really think that even you can fix this?” he asked, not expecting an answer and almost thrilled when Bellamy looked even more broken. 

He scoffed. “She is done with you. In fact, so am I. We’re both done with all the crap you and Raven have been dishing out for months. Don’t come crying to me just because your actions and words finally caught up to you.”

He hated how it felt good to go after Bellamy. Maybe a piece of it was because he hurt Clarke, yes, but he knew the bigger part was that it was the simple concept of tearing into someone else while he was hurting. It was sort of sick, and he thought he’d moved past this part of himself. Just when he needed it most though, it was there, waiting for him. 

“You’re being pathetic.”

Bellamy swallowed and Murphy wondered if he even cared about the insult. If any of Murphy’s words were even getting through. He knew if he was truly going to slam the door on Bellamy and Clarke, then he had to work harder at it. Had to be crueler, maybe more than Bellamy deserved, even after everything. He debated doing it, only for a moment. It was in that moment though that he sensed Bellamy gearing up for another round of pleading, and he couldn’t take that.

So, he finished, “She. Doesn’t. Want. You. Anymore.” He smirked. “She wants me. So get the hell over it already. God knows the rest of us are done with this crap.”

Murphy found the ability to force a pleased expression to grace his features as Bellamy took in his words, shock and pain evident on his own face. He wanted to feel satisfied. More than that, he wished he knew he’d done the right thing. But one look at Bellamy made him question all of what he’d said. 

“I—” Bellamy began, but whatever he’d wanted to say fell away. 

Instead, he cleared his throat and Murphy wondered if he wasn’t holding back tears. If he felt shitty before, then he definitely did now. Bellamy didn’t cry over _nothing_ after all. He knew if he’d managed to bring out those feelings, then his words really had done their job. 

If only he felt it that any of it was the right thing to say. 

“Okay,” Bellamy finally said after a terrifying moment where Murphy really thought he might start crying. “I get it, Murphy. Thank you, I guess, I…” He shook his head, appearing more than simply dazed. As if the world had gone upside down. Maybe for him, it really had. 

Murphy thought he might say more, but he didn’t. Just clapped Murphy on the shoulder and walked away. It made him feel ever worse. If Bellamy wasn’t fighting back, if he really believed the lie Murphy had told...Well, that was dangerous, wasn’t it? A Bellamy Blake free of Clarke Griffin and obligation and trust and, yeah, love, was something that struck Murphy with something that felt a lot like fear. 

And here he thought just moments ago that he might’ve actually been having a good night. Honestly, fuck parties. If he never went to another one after tonight, it would be too soon. 

* * *

Clarke walked away from her mom, a smile still plastered on her face, trying her best to not convey the mess of emotions she was experiencing. 

She made it to a hallway before she let the smile fall off her face. She nursed the champagne in her hand. Her and Murphy might need to Uber home after all, she thought bitterly. 

If only Bellamy and Raven hadn’t shown up, then maybe she wouldn’t feel the need to rely on booze to numb the pounding of her heart whenever she saw him. Though she felt in her bones that it hadn’t been his idea to come tonight, he still had. She didn’t know what to do with that.

On one hand, it spoke to his disregard for her wishes. On the other...It said just how much he loved her. 

She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Or what she was meant to make of it. Let alone _do_ with it. 

Leaning against the wall, she tried to collect her thoughts. What this meant for her, that she was feeling this amount of regret towards her decision to cut out Bellamy. She knew she was _trying_ to do what was best for her. While embarrassing, her actions and words at the previous party felt right. They felt _good_ and made her realize just how much she needed to get them all out. 

That didn’t make the reality of letting Bellamy go any easier though. 

Clarke had known it was going to be difficult, but she didn’t imagine it would hurt this much. While she had Murphy to lean on, she knew he didn’t completely understand her and Bellamy’s relationship. No one really did, except for the other. It went beyond explanation or ration or any standard of any other dynamic. Just as she couldn’t completely know what it was like to be Murphy right then, he didn’t know what it was like to be her. 

She wanted to be free of it all, the pain, the lies, the constant doubt, but she knew that was too great of an ask. She would’ve taken anything but the feeling of wanting Bellamy back in her life, even though she knew he probably had given up by now. After the way she didn’t even see him, how could he not? If she didn’t have hope for them, she didn’t see how he could.

Her thoughts still rattled around in her mind, which was why she jumped when she heard Echo say, “Clarke, what’re you doing without your New Bellamy?”

Clarke frowned and shook her head. “I thought we agreed to stay away from one another.” When Echo shrugged in response, she added, “And I don’t even know what you’re even talking about.”

“Isn’t Murphy just a replacement for my fiancé?” Echo asked and Clarke hated how the question, however absurd, made her squirm a bit. “After all, you couldn’t have him, so you went to Murphy. Do I have that right?”

“Now I really have no idea what you’re going on about,” Clarke replied. “Murphy isn’t a replacement, and we didn’t get together because of Bellamy.”

Echo shook her head and Clarke noticed that her eyes were filled with rage, though the rest of her was perfectly composed. It sort of freaked her out, though she shouldn’t have been surprised. It was one of the things Clarke admired about her, her ability to stay focused. But Clarke realized that, like all attributes, it could also be a detriment. Especially when Echo seemed as pissed off as she was. 

Echo nodded and tilted her head to the side. “Well, I suppose that’s for the best, considering me and Bellamy are getting back together.”

Clarke looked at her for a moment, the disbelief probably all over her face. “He said you broke up.” Her voice held far too much emotion, and she cursed herself for not reigning it in before she spoke. 

Echo shrugged again. “He wanted to, but we talked about it, and he realized he loves me, and that he wants to be with me.” She narrowed her eyes. “Not you, as much as you might want him.”

Clarke shook her head. “I don’t.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” she responded. “Especially given what you said at the dinner.”

She swallowed thickly, her throat burning with the shame of the words she’d said in front of everyone. Without even thinking about the repercussions, how they would no doubt blow back on her. Well, they were now, and she despised herself for ever saying them, as much as she needed to at the time. 

Clarke straightened her back and jutted out her chin. “Me and Bellamy aren’t even friends anymore. So, you can do whatever you want with him. I don’t care.”

She knew Echo didn’t buy it, not entirely. Clarke wanted to come up with a better response, something to add onto her other words to truly convince her. Though she suspected that that was no longer possible. All thoughts of that were abandoned as soon as Echo spoke again though. 

She smirked and leaned against the wall opposite from Clarke. “Well, that’s good because I did do _whatever_ I wanted with him. Upstairs. Just minutes ago.”

After that, Clarke wasn’t sure she could’ve had a coherent thought if she put all of her energy into it. 

“What?” she asked, unable to conceal the shock in her tone. 

Echo rolled her eyes, as if she was already bored of the conversation. “I think it was your room. Blue bedspread. White dresser. Horse posters, right?” 

They’d been in _her_ room. The thought made her sick. But then she remembered how angry Echo was, and realized there was no reason for her to think something had happened between the two of them just because she said. Bellamy might’ve been a dick to her these past few months, but he was trying to make it up to her now. He wouldn’t ruin things _even more_. Not even if he thought there really was no point to it anymore. Of that, Clarke was sure. 

“I don’t believe you,” she told Echo. “There is nothing that you can say that would convince me—” 

But the sentence was cut off. By Bellamy walking down the stairs. From the direction of her room. She thought she might truly be sick. 

“You were saying?” Echo sounded all too pleased, which only later gave Clarke pause. Much later. Certainly too late to prevent what happened next. 

“Clarke—” Bellamy started, but he didn’t get another word out because she was already tearing into him.

“How dare you, you sick fuck!” she yelled, not caring who heard. 

Bellamy looked past her at Echo, but she commanded his attention once more as she continued, “Are you really that upset with me for cutting you out? That you have to go and _have sex with Echo in my room_?”

“What. The. Fuck?” Murphy asked. 

Clarke whirled around to face him and the rest of her friends. They all had matching expressions of shock and confusion on their faces. Except Raven, who also had eyes ringed red and splotchy cheeks. 

If it was any other situation, she would’ve been more concerned for her friends than she was for herself and what Bellamy’s actions meant, but she was _hurt_ and _pissed_. She couldn’t believe he’d done this. But it did seem as if Echo was telling the truth. That meant that...She swallowed. It meant that she could really let him go. No regrets or doubt. 

“Bellamy and Echo had sex in my room,” she said plainly. “Plus the happy couple are back together. Guess there’s cause for celebration.” 

“What?” Bellamy got out. She turned to glare at him, and he had the audacity to shake his head and say, “We didn’t, Clarke. We absolutely did not, okay?”

She stuck out her chin and narrowed her eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

“Clarke—” Bellamy began, but he didn’t finish, because Murphy was saying, “Right,” and then shaking out his shoulders and marched over to where Bellamy and Clarke stood. 

No one even had time to react until Bellamy was on the ground. 

“Murphy!” Octavia exclaimed. 

Murphy clutched his hand. “Fuck me, that hurt.”

Harper put her head in her hands, and Maya was the brave soul who went and helped Bellamy stand. Clarke didn’t know what to say, but she knew she wasn’t done yet. Except she didn’t get the chance because then Jasper walked into the room and read everyone's faces. 

He frowned and shook his head in what Clarke thought was disbelief. “You guys already told her?”

"Not now," Emori said, shooting him a look that was meant to silence any possible questions. 

It was too late though because Clarke had heard and was looking around at them. "Tell me what?"

After a moment of silent conversation between all of them, Lincoln said, "We found something in your mother's bathroom."

"What did you find?" she asked, dreading it, feeling that she already knew the answer.

Her brain was no longer functional after Echo’s reveal, so she couldn't even be positive that this was exactly what she said.

Jasper’s hands waved and he started to ramble, "I had a stomach ache and I went into her bathroom to find some Tums and—”

She raised a hand to quiet him. God, of course, this was about something ridiculous. Couldn’t they see she was dealing with Murphy and Bellamy and the whole mess that her life had become? 

She let out a slow breath and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Jasper. But I really don't give a flying fuck about your stomach ache right now."

"Clarke," Harper spoke up, her voice steady even though her eyes wavered. Clarke felt herself go still. "He found pills.”

It took her a moment longer than she’d like to register what Harper had said. She swallowed. "Show me."

Harper produced a bottle that looked normal enough. It was orange and sort of clear. A perfectly standard pill bottle you would get at a pharmacy. Except there wasn't a proper label on it or anything. She could recognize them for what they were on sight at this point. Pain killers. Her mom’s drug of choice. 

"She's a doctor though," Monty said, doing his best to come up with any other scenario that wasn’t the worst one. She loved him for it, even though she knew it only delayed the inevitable. "So she could need them for some reason or..." he trailed off, seemingly unable to continue once he realized it was hopeless. 

"Dude, it doesn't even have a label on it," Miller said.

"Right," she said, mostly to herself.

"Clarke, there you are," she heard her mom say and she turned around and faced her.

She walked up to her, the pill bottle still her hand, and looked her in the eye for much longer than she had all night. She hadn't noticed it before, but really, she should've been able to tell that something was off right away.

"You're high," she said, her voice soft and broken. It didn't even begin to express how much. The extent to which tonight had taken all of the fight out of her in just a matter of moments. 

"I can explain,” Abby said, her voice taking on a plea. “I've had a small relapse, but I'm managing it—” She went to say more, but Clarke had already turned away from her.

"I hope it's worth it," Clarke shot over her shoulder.

And then she practically ran out of the house. The second the valet handed her the keys to Murphy's car, she started to get into the driver's side. But someone was there and took the keys out of her hand. For a moment she thought it was Bellamy, but it wasn't.

"You can't drive right now, Clarke. Get in the passenger side," Murphy told her. She was pretty sure she nodded, but she couldn't be sure.

All of her friends had trailed out after her. She got into the passenger side and stared in front of her, not being able to bear to look at any of them.

Bellamy was there in a second, though. Hanging off the side of the car.

"Clarke, please," some part of her registered that he was beyond just desperate, not just pleading with her but something even deeper, as if that even existed. She couldn't let herself care about that. 

"Clarke, just look at me." But she didn't. "Please."

She didn't look at him though, no matter how much she wanted to, because she knew if she did, she'd be one step closer to letting him back in, to forgiving him. 

Instead, she turned to Murphy, her expression blank and devoid of all the emotions that she felt. "What are you waiting for?" she asked, and then faced forward again. "Drive the car.”

* * *

As soon as the car was out of sight, Bellamy turned around and faced Echo. “What did you say to her?” he demanded.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Honestly, Bellamy, I really don’t know why you think I’m to blame when—”

“Echo, did you lie?” Emori demanded. She looked at Bellamy and then back at Echo. “Did you make that shit up about you two sleeping together to get at Clarke and Bellamy?”

Echo paled slightly.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Miller let out with a groan. 

His friends started voicing their own displeasures and shock at the situation, but he didn’t take in any of it. The only thing he felt beside the need to go after Clarke and Murphy was the pain where Murphy’s fist had connected with his face. 

“I gotta go after them,” Bellamy said almost to just himself. He turned to Miller. “Can you give Raven a ride home?” 

Thankfully, Miller understood the anguish and utter turmoil behind Bellamy’s words, because he simply nodded. 

Bellamy didn’t wait around for the blow-up amongst his friends that was imminent. He didn’t care about that. It was for later, when he didn’t have to rush after Clarke and let her know the truth. The whole truth. 

Bellamy only knew he had to tell Clarke what actually happened, that whatever Echo had said to her went down between the two of them, definitely didn’t. He had no idea how he was going to convince her, how he was even going to begin to explain what happened, but he had to hold onto what O told him earlier that night. He had to fight for Clarke. And he would. If he didn’t, then he really didn’t deserve her. Not that he thought he did at the present moment.

None of that impacted him in that moment though. All that did was one, singular driving thought: He loved Clarke, and he was damn well going to fight for her. Even if she didn’t believe in him anymore, or them, he would believe. For the both of them. For however long or whatever it took. 

Together, like always. Even if together was no longer where she wanted to be with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading ❤︎
> 
> Find me on tumblr (@detectivebellamyblake)


	15. Where We Gonna Go From Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies! I am _so_ sorry for the prolonged absence from this story. However, I think my time away really helped. I feel more confident about this story and how I am handling future chapters. Hopefully, I won't take more long breaks, but I will say my mental health is a top priority in 2021 and I need to take care of myself. I will keep you all updated over on my tumblr in cases of a hiatus. 
> 
> All of that said, this chapter gets us out of the angst city we've been living in...Well, it starts to. After all, I really destroyed everything with the last couple of chapters, haven't I? So, now, for the rest of the fic, I will be building it back together. Hopefully, you trust me to do that. 
> 
> Thank you all so much to those who comment, leave kudos, or simply read my stories. It truly means so much to me and I am forever grateful. If you'd like to give advice, have specific questions, or constructive crit of any kind, I do ask that you dm me over on tumblr (@animmortalist). Further, please refrain from any hate. It doesn't help anyone. 
> 
> There is a wonderful initiative for t100 fandom happening right now. It's t100fic-for-blm and it raises money for charities and organizations aiding the movement. Find out how to prompt a writer or content creator with our carrd [here](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/). As a writer, I am only accepting prompts for WIP updates at this time. 
> 
> *Chapter title is from 'Where We Gonna Go From Here' by Mat Kearney*
> 
> Find the playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5GqGLwbeDBNfqUp0iVjVqF?si=TRbzI1NsS-KnKJBRyJKDyw).
> 
> Sending all the love and good thoughts to you 💜

Murphy and Clarke drove back to their place in silence. Neither one knew what to say. Well, he wasn’t sure about her, but he knew there was nothing he could’ve said to make any of what happened tonight better. Really, what had been happening for the last couple of months. The volcano finally erupted, partly because of their own actions, and he couldn’t even fool himself into believing that any of it was worth it. 

The guilt. That was the worst part. His aching hand might’ve said otherwise though, but that felt like the same thing, when he thought about it. He knew that despite everything Bellamy and Raven had said and done, it didn’t excuse their actions. The way they’d deliberately went after them, did and said stuff they knew they couldn’t take back. Yes, they’d succeeded in burning everything down, but at what cost? 

Now that he was away from them, and thinking more clearly than he had in months, he saw that.

Nothing _would_ take it back though. Nothing would fix the damage that had been done. The thought threatened to crush him. He’d wanted this, but he had it, and it didn’t make any of it any better. It didn’t erase the pain he felt when he thought about Raven. The anger he felt toward Bellamy. Because he knew that he’d fucked up, too. He wasn’t perfect (that he’d known long before any of us) but until now he didn’t think he was an actively bad guy. 

Of course, it wasn’t that simple. Clarke would’ve told him that, if she was saying anything at the moment. They were hurt. _They_ were in pain. Hurt people hurt people and all that bull. The sad fact of the matter was, it didn’t matter how he and Clarke felt or even how they felt. The bridges hadn’t just been burned, they’d been erased from existence altogether. 

As they pulled into his parking spot on their street, he opened his mouth to say something, anything, to Clarke, but she got out of the car and slammed it shut behind her before he could. If she didn’t want to discuss it, then he wasn’t going to push her. God knew she was probably feeling the same mess of emotions that he was—because they were still in this together. 

Even if that meant completely ruining their lives, and hurting people they loved on purpose.

He was exhausted by the events of the night. Shortly after they went to get some sleep (separately) he passed out almost as soon as he collapsed into bed. Around two in the morning, he got up to go to the bathroom. And when he came back, he almost missed it. But he looked closer out the window and knew it definitely had to be there. It was something. Something moving on their patio. And while it was dark and he couldn't make out the exact shape, it looked a lot like a person. His heart started to race a little, and he crossed the hall to go into Clarke's room.

"Clarke! Wake up." 

When she didn’t move or react, he started shaking her.

"What is your problem?" she asked with a groan, sitting up.

"There's someone out on the patio," he said.

She was still half-asleep. “What the hell are you talking about?” The words came out almost as a mumble. 

"Dude!” he exclaimed, pretty pissed she wasn’t realizing the severity of the situation. “We're being house-invaded!"

"Shit," she muttered.

"What do we do? I mean, do we call the cops? Do we call Miller? The fuck do we do?”

Murphy knew his freaking out wasn’t helping, but he couldn’t stop himself. Clarke waved a hand. As if the house got broken into all the time. If he was pissed before, then he was practically livid. 

"Relax,” she said, probably sensing his anger. “I'm prepared for this.”

Then she rooted around under her bed and pulled out an aluminum baseball bat.

"You've had that there the whole time?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I'm a young woman that lives in the city. I don't know what else you expected.”

They walked down into the kitchen together, where he grabbed a frying pan. She rolled her eyes. Whatever. If she was going to have a weapon, then so was he. Maybe he was crouching behind her, just a little bit.

"Okay, so on the count of three," he said as they reached the door to outside.

"Seriously?" Clarke shook her head and flung open the door.

The shape started to move as they continued to bicker, and okay, there was definitely a person out there. They were so fucked. Maybe they were gonna die. All he could think was the last words he’d said to Raven had been ones he’d hoped (at the time) would leave a permanent bruise. Not exactly his finest final moment. 

Murphy clutched the frying pan and may or may not have made a sound that was not entirely human.

Clarke raised the baseball bat and was just about to wack the fuck out of the stranger with it when she said, "Bellamy? What the _hell_ are you doing?”

Murphy flicked on the light for the patio, and indeed, their so-called intruder was Bellamy. Really, he shouldn't have been surprised. After they left the party, he had no idea what happened, but he could guess, and none of it was good. 

"Dude," he said. "What are you doing here?”

Bellamy stammered for a bit, "I knocked, but you guys didn't answer and…”

"So you decided to break into our backyard?" Clarke asked. The baseball bat was still raised. He eyed it warily, and she seemed to remember it was there. She slowly lowered it. 

"Uh, yeah?" Bellamy winced.

“How is that in any way logical?” she asked. 

“Look,” he said and Murphy didn’t have a very good feeling about what he was going to say next. He was proven right when Bellamy continued, “I don’t know what Echo told you at the party, but she lied, okay?”

Clarke pressed her lips into a thin line. “How or why am I supposed to believe that?”

“Because…” Bellamy swallowed. “We’re us.”

She bit her lip and avoided his eye. “I don’t think we can be anymore.”

Murphy felt he should’ve been able to contribute something, but his hand and Bellamy’s face made him hesitate. If he was telling the truth, and Echo really had lied about sleeping with Bellamy in Clarke’s room, then the punch had been all for nothing. He was learning that a lot of what they’d done had been for nothing, in the end. Only it was too late. 

He knew what Clarke meant by her words. That it wasn’t just on Bellamy that they couldn’t be them anymore. If her behavior after the party was anything to go by, he’d bet she was feeling similar to him. Which only made the whole thing more depressing. 

“Clarke, I’ll do anything,” Bellamy pleaded. 

Clarke swallowed thickly, and Murphy could sense the tears building up that she fought against. “I know you will,” she said. “That’s not the problem.”

“I don’t understand,” he replied. 

Again, Murphy felt like an observer to something he wasn’t a part of, to a private conversation. Like only the other existed when they talked to one another. It had been like this for years, of course, so it didn’t come as a surprise. But he _was_ a little bit shocked that it remained after everything that had gone down. Even though Bellamy was his friend and he was sleeping with Clarke, maybe kind of dating her, it didn’t feel like he was a piece of this. He wondered even if Bellamy and Clarke were never friends again, if he would ever feel like he could touch what they had. He already knew the answer, but he didn’t like it. 

Clarke let out a deep breath. “The problem _is_ us. It’s what we do to each other.”

Bellamy shook his head, as if it couldn’t be true. Murphy felt that he needed it to not be the truth. Even as the bruise on his face and her expression told him differently. He hadn’t been able to relate to Bellamy much recently, but he did, at that moment. Because he felt the same about him and Raven. Maybe it wasn’t her or him or what they’d chosen to do. It was the two of them, together, and what they were capable of when they were in each other’s lives.

It was so goddamn sad, Murphy felt like lying down right there. Probably do something pathetic like break down and cry. As if he was in mourning, as if someone or something had died. When he thought about him and Raven, and Clarke and Bellamy, and the whole mess they’d created, he realized maybe something had.

“It’s what we’ve all done,” Murphy said, surprising himself with his own words.

Bellamy looked at him for the first time. “I’m sorry,” he told him. Then his eyes found Clarke’s again. “I know this is all fucked up. I know I ruined everything, but please, I don’t care what I have to do, I will do it.”

There were tears falling down Clarke’s face now, and Murphy wanted to reach out and reassure her. Except he wasn’t that kind of guy, not really, and she felt about a million miles away. He doubted even if he had twelve foot arms he could’ve reached her. 

“There’s nothing either one of us can do, can’t you see that?” She wiped tears away. “It has to be over. I have to have it be over.”

“Clarke, do you need me to beg?” Bellamy asked.

Murphy spoke again, knowing that it wouldn’t do any of them any good, but unable to stop himself, “Haven’t we all hurt each other enough?”

Bellamy opened his mouth and then closed it. “We can still fix it.”

Clarke responded, and Murphy really didn’t know how she found the words, “That’s the thing, I don’t think it should be fixed.” 

She took a shaky breath. 

“We’ve been on this merry-go-round of pain and bullshit and lies, and what has it got us?” she asked. “All any of us has managed to do is hurt each other. How can that be a sign that we should still be in each other’s lives, that we should even try?”

Bellamy tilted his head to the side and Murphy nearly winced just looking at him. He felt bad for him. In fact, despite it all, he felt bad for every single one of his friends. Clarke was right though. At least, he needed her to be—they couldn’t keep doing this. While he might’ve told himself that he could hurt Raven for as long as he needed, it wasn’t the truth. He didn’t have the stomach for it. More than that though, he realized that he didn’t _want_ to do it. Not only because it made him the kind of person he’d never wanted to be, yet people always seemed to think he was, but because he didn’t want to hurt someone who he loved. And he did still love her. Regardless of the pain they’d caused one another. He loved her still, and he thought, with the utmost regret, that he always would.

“I want to try.” Bellamy took a step forward and to Murphy’s surprise, Clarke didn’t take one back. It occurred to him that maybe he was getting through to her. It didn’t bother him, to his shock. It just made him more sad. “I’ll try forever, I don’t care. I just want to be in your life. If there’s any part of you that still wants me in it. I’ll do anything.”

“But why!” Clarke gestured widely with her arms. “Why do you think we should? Why do you even _want_ to try after what I did? After what _we_ did? It doesn’t make sense.” 

The last sentence seemed to be more toward herself than Bellamy. Murphy related, but he wasn’t about to say so. Not when he suspected the exact reason why Bellamy wanted to try so badly. 

“I don’t care what you did, it doesn’t make a difference,” Bellamy told her. 

Murphy knew that wasn’t true. It couldn’t be the whole of it, not after everything. He knew that Bellamy wanted it to be true though, and maybe that was worse.

Clarke shook her head and for a second he didn’t think she’d say anything else, but then she added, “None of that matters because you still haven’t given me a reason for why you think we should try. And how the hell you expect us to get past it.”

Murphy wondered if a part of Bellamy didn't break at the moment when he started to plead with Clarke, even though he probably already knew it was hopeless.

His eyes swam with tears, too. Now, Murphy was the only one not crying, and not because he didn’t want to. Rather, because he figured at least one of them had to keep it together for the next part.

"Because I—” Bellamy started, and there was only one thing he could’ve been trying to say.

“Bellamy…” Clarke interrupted. “Just go home.” Before he could reply, she was already turning away from him.

He didn’t miss a beat, to his credit. 

"You're my home,” he said.

And yeah, Murphy thought, if Bellamy wasn't broken before, he certainly was now. She hesitated for a second but then stepped towards the door without looking at him.

"Not anymore." 

With that, she walked back into the house.

When she was gone, Murphy shook his head.

"What did you think was gonna happen?" he asked, and he didn't wonder if he wasn't just talking about the events of that night, but everything that had happened leading up to and since he got engaged.

He didn't wait around outside for an answer, too busy hating himself for his own decisions and actions that had led him here.

* * *

After not leaving her apartment for four days, Raven knew she was starting to lose it a little bit. 

She had been wearing the same leggings and crappy t-shirt every day since the party. The only communication she'd had with other human beings was texting her friends about what was happening between Bellamy and Clarke, and if Murphy had mentioned her at all. She tried not to be crushed when they said he hadn't. None of their words about what was going on gave her any kind of hope. 

She'd messaged both Clarke and Murphy maybe thirty times. Clarke messaged back after a day and said she wanted to talk, but not yet. She needed to clear her head. He hadn't replied to a single one. She would’ve thought he’d blocked her, except he was an actual serial killer wannabe and had his read receipts on, so she knew he was reading all of them. What he was thinking of them, however, she had no idea. 

It was driving her up the wall, not knowing. 

She was on her couch, half-way through eating her second carton of Oreos while _Sons of Anarchy_ played in the background. It was pathetic, really, but she picked up her phone and started typing. Again. Unsure of what she was even going to say. Unable to think of the right thing to even say, after their months of tense interactions that blew up over the last few days. 

_imessage: cockroach_

**Raven:** i know you hate me. i was a bitch. i know i've said that like...twenty times already, but you got me saying it again. go you. pls talk to me. i'm having a soa rewatch and i'm about to get to donna's death and like...you know how much that fucks me up

**Raven:** and yeah, i am trying to emotionally manipulate you. sue me.

**Raven:** i had no right to say the stuff i did, but i still want you in my life...if you still want me

**Raven:** i know you know that i know you're reading these

**Raven:** this is not what taylor swift would want you to do, you know?

**Raven:** you're the only person that knows how much i love her. did you know that?? 

**Raven:** YOU’RE JUST ANOTHER PICTURE TO BURNNNNNN

**Raven:** ok i know thats not fair you don’t even own a truck

**Raven:** HOW BOUT WE SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE IT OFF???

**Raven:** not even a witty remark? or a ‘shut up reyes’?

**Raven:** WE WERE DRIVING THE GETAWAY CAR WE WERE FLYING BUT WE NEVER GET FAR DON’T PRETEND IT’S SUCH A MYSTERY THINK ABOUT THE PLACE WHERE YOU FIRST MET ME

**Raven:** Ok that one’s too sad I’m gonna cry so moving on...

**Raven:** AND I'M STANDING ALONE IN A CROWDED ROOM AND WE'RE NOT SPEAKINGGGG AND IM DYING TO KNOW IS IT KILLING YOU LIKE ITS KILLING MEEEEE????

**Raven:** no? fine. guess i gotta whip out the big guns

**Raven:** AND I CANCELED MY PLANS JUST IN CASE YOU’D CALL BACK WHEN I WAS LIVING FOR THE HOPE OF IT ALL

**Raven:** seriously??????

**Raven:** YOUR HEART WAS GLASS I DROPPED IT

**Raven:** NOW I’M IN EXILE SEEIN’ YOU OUT

**Raven:** i will have you know im actually singing those lyrics rn. my neighbors are gonna report me and get me kicked out and then ill be homeless and its all ur fault.

**Raven:** i miss you, you ABSOLUTE ASSHOLE! YOURE A SICK FUCK YOU KNOW THAT?? FUCKING ANSWER ME

**Raven:** ok that was way too harsh as true as it is 

**Raven:** im sorry

**Raven:** i miss us

**Raven:** if you've watched any peaky blinders without me i'll kill you

**Raven:** fuck it

**Raven:** WOULD YOU HAVE ME WOULD YOU WANT ME WOULD YOU TELL ME TO GO FUCK MYSELF OR LEAD ME TO THE GARDEN?

* * *

Clarke tried to get used to life without Bellamy, but even before Octavia asked her if she could come over to have some wine and destress about work (a total lie—not that she could blame her after), she knew it was a failure. 

The conversation started friendly enough. They traded stories about the gallery and Octavia’s cases. Work was kicking her ass, but Lincoln was always there to support her. She didn’t pretend for too long though, and really, Clarke should’ve seen it coming. 

“You need to talk to my brother,” she said, staring her down over her glass of cabernet. 

Clarke shifted on her couch. Murphy was working late at the restaurant, so there would be no interruptions. Plus, Octavia had chosen Clarke’s place on purpose. Better for her to feel more at ease when the attack came. Not that it really counted as an attack, once they got talking. 

Shaking her head, Clarke sighed. “I have talked to him.” Octavia gave her a look, so she continued, “As much as I feel I can. As much as I think is good.” When Octavia snorted, she turned defensive. “As much as is good _for either one of us_.”

“Bullshit,” Octavia practically yelled.

“Octavia—”

She held up a hand. “No. You’ve said what you believe. Hell, you said _a lot_ at Echo and Bell’s Engagement Dinner. Now, I’m gonna talk. I’m gonna tell you what’s actually the truth.”

All of her instincts and will told her to fight it. To not listen or argue. Tell Octavia that she had no interest in what she thought was the truth. There was a bigger part of her that wanted to know, even if she didn’t think she’d be able to believe or even understand it. 

Taking a deep breath, she made her decision, and gestured for Octavia to explain her side of things. 

“You’re in love with him,” she started, which made Clarke bristle. She quickly went on, “We’re not going to do all that debating it crap here, okay? You’re in love with him. You as much as said those exact words to his face. So, I think you can accept me saying them to yours.”

Clarke swallowed, took a deep sip of wine, and admitted, “I suppose that’s fair.”

Octavia nodded. “Good. Not all is hopeless.” Clarke opened her mouth to argue that, but she kept going before she could even get a word in, “And, as much as you might want to hide from it and deny it...He’s in love with you, too.”

Clarke felt her lip tremble and she squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t let it be true. Not because she didn’t _want_ to be loved by Bellamy, but because she no longer thought they _should_ love each other. That that love had made them both hurt each other and themselves. She knew she was no expert on the matter, but she believed that love wasn’t supposed to do that. Love wasn’t meant to be a war. 

“You’re being selfish, Clarke.” 

Octavia paused, as if to give her an opening. She didn’t take it, she found she couldn’t. She had no idea what she was meant to say to that. How to make Octavia see what she did. Clarke knew that she had a point about her being selfish. It wasn’t fair to Octavia or any of their friends. None of it had been, but she’d been so hurt, she couldn’t even think about what she was doing, let alone have the control to stop herself. Not only because of Bellamy, but because of herself, too. He’d hurt her, yes, but it was the fear she had of herself that convinced her they couldn’t be in one another’s lives. 

Finally, she found the courage to speak, “I know.” She nodded, and Octavia turned more sympathetic. “I just...I can’t see a way out of this for us. I don’t know how I’m meant to fix this.”

Octavia gave her a sad smile. “Maybe you don’t fix it.” Clarke frowned, and she expanded, “Maybe it needs to be different. Hell, I think what’s been happening is a pretty good indicator of that. But just because something needs to be different doesn’t mean it can’t exist at all.” She gestured to herself. “I’m different, aren’t I? But it’s _good_ different. I needed to be different, because before wasn’t good for me or anyone else. I think you and Bell can be the same.”

Clarke wanted her words to be the truth, she wanted to believe in them without a second thought. She couldn’t though. There was just too much.

“How?” she asked, not expecting an answer that would satisfy her.

Octavia must’ve sensed this because she shrugged and said, “That isn’t up to me. That’s up to the two of you. Now, you just have to decide: are you gonna be a bitch baby and hide from your favorite person forever or are you gonna put on your big girl pants and find your way out of this mess the hard way?”

Clarke rolled her eyes, but somehow, she realized that Octavia was right. Those were her options. Either let go of her and Bellamy completely, as she intended, which would hurt more than just her and Bellamy. Or, she would fight for something different, something new. Even if she had no idea what that was. 

It didn’t take her long to decide.

* * *

In light of Abby’s party, Bellamy knew he was becoming an emo little shit, but he didn’t care. Clarke didn’t want him. Not anymore. Not even as a friend. Honestly, he couldn’t even blame her. He’d made so many mistakes with her. With Murphy, too. And Jesus...Echo. That still needed to be dealt with. So, while there was nothing he could do about being expelled from Clarke and Murphy’s lives (which he had to remind himself of every time he picked up his phone to text them) he could at least have an honest conversation with her. 

_imessage: echo_

**Bellamy:** We need to talk about what happened at the party. Really, what’s happened in the last few months. I know I fucked up, and I wasn’t fair to you but...Look, I think this is just going to be easier in person. 

**Echo:** alright. you can come to my place. give me an hour.

**Bellamy:** I'll be there.

As much as Echo had fucked with him and his relationship with Clarke (and he had to admit, Clarke had fucked with him and Echo) he had started it all by asking her to marry him. He _was_ pissed at her, of course, but he also was pretty sure he was one of the only people who understood her. 

She had lost him and she was scared. She wanted someone to pay for what happened, and Clarke had just been a tool to do that. It made him want to scream, but he saw it for what it was. Besides, there was no point in any further fighting. There just was trying to move on the best any of them could, and he knew neither one of them could’ve done that without speaking first.

When he got to her place, she opened the door and eyed his face, where the bruise from Murphy’s punch looked more than a little fucked. 

“Thanks for coming.” She swallowed. “I wasn’t sure if I’d ever hear from you again.”

He ran a hand through his hair and nodded. “Yeah, I, uh, I needed some time. I think you did, too.”

Echo seemed like she wanted to argue against that, but she gave up, and took a seat on the couch. Bellamy waited a moment before he sat next to her. It was funny, how formal it all seemed. Only months ago, he thought he’d spend the rest of his life with her. Now, that idea seemed so far away, it was almost impossible. 

Since he knew he had to be the one to start, he just went for it right away, "I had no business getting involved with you as seriously as I did. Not when I knew I loved someone else."

"No, you didn't." Echo shook her head. “But I knew, too.”

He frowned and she almost looked like she might laugh. “Come on, I mean, you weren't exactly subtle, Bellamy. I guess I just wanted it to work so badly...I don't know. I've never had a relationship that serious. I thought it could work."

"I really wanted it to," he said. "I don't know if that's okay to say, and I know none of this has been fair to you, but I didn't ask you to marry me out of spite. I asked you because I was really hoping we could make each other happy."

“But?” she asked, guessing what he was going to say next before he even said it.

“What did you say to Clarke?” he asked. “I know,” he paused, “that you were hurt, too, by all of this. But what you did and said…” he trailed off, unsure of how to say it, how to make her see what she’d done.

It turned out, he didn’t have to,

“Yeah,” she said, flat. “I know what I did. And I know that it was wrong.” She sucked on her teeth. “I told Clarke something...A lie that I shouldn’t have. In the moment, I didn’t care. It all was so...It felt so urgent, you know? That I even the score. Everyone was so caught up in the battle none of us realized we’d already lost by fighting it in the first place.” 

Bellamy could relate to that all too well. “I know.” He treaded carefully. “But will...I mean—”

“I can’t fix everything between you two,” she cut in. “But I will tell her the truth. I’ll tell her what role I played in it all.” She shook her head. “If nothing else then to not have her sick Marcus Kane on me and ruin my political career.”

Bellamy opened his mouth, but she beat him to it. 

“I was joking, Bellamy,” she told him. 

He sighed. “Right.”

Then they sat in silence, and Bellamy wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say next. Not until Echo let out a slow breath. "Well, this fucking sucks.” To his surprise, she laughed a little. 

"Echo—" But she held up a hand.

"I'm pissed at you, alright? I hate what I did because of us, but you've made me really think about who I am and what I want," she took a breath, "which is why I'm moving to New York."

He furrowed his brow, and she rolled her eyes.

"Not because of you, idiot. I would never let a guy make me run away. Because...My entire life I've let other people control me, you know?” She bit her lip. “And maybe that's why our relationship worked as long as it did, I don't know. But I got this great job offer. Much higher up than where I'm at now, and honestly, I'm tired of working for Nia. She's not good for me. And I think it's about time I did what was good for me."

He nodded. "I really want you to be happy, Echo."

She smiled, a little sadly. "I will be."

Then she twisted off the ring and handed it back to him.

It was incredibly awkward after that, and Bellamy quickly moved to make his exit. 

“Take care of yourself,” he said.

She stared him down. "Don't fuck it up again.”

As he walked out of Echo’s building, his phone rang. It was Murphy. He blinked at it, confused, before he finally plucked up the courage to answer it. 

“Uh,” he coughed, “is this a butt dial?”

He was pretty sure it was a butt dial.

Murphy scoffed. “I fucking wish.”

Bellamy frowned. “Are you calling to remind me what an asshole I am? Cause I just got done talking with Echo and I already _know_ how much of one I am and—”

“Enough with the feelings shit,” Murphy groaned. 

“Then why…” he trailed off. 

What was this? Maybe Murphy wanted to rub it in his face, the fact that he’d lost Clarke. Or he just wanted him to know how badly he’d fucked up. Well, he didn’t need the reminder. He was completely aware. 

“Because you’re my friend, unfortunately enough for the both of us,” Murphy finished.

Bellamy didn’t reply, and he heard Murphy huff out a laugh. “I can’t believe I’ve rendered you speechless. This phone call is truly romantic.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Bellamy responded, his tone light, teasing. 

It occurred to him that this was the first time he’d joked around with Murphy in a long time.

Bellamy recovered quickly enough though, recalling how difficult things were between them at the moment. “I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

“Yeah, well, I thought so, too. Or else I probably wouldn’t have ruined _two_ fancy parties over it all.”

“So then why are you calling me a friend still?” Bellamy asked.

It didn’t seem plausible. That Murphy would remain his friend when Clarke wanted nothing to do with him. Which made his heart stutter. If Clarke wanted something from him, then that would convince Murphy to still be his friend. He knew he probably didn’t deserve it, and that she was probably right and they weren’t good for one another. But at the idea of having her in his life, in any capacity, he couldn’t control himself.

“What did Clarke say? Does she…”

“Slow down,” Murphy interrupted. “I think that situation...Well, that's best discussed by the two of you. Consider me Switzerland. Well, not exactly neutral but...I’m calling about _our_ friendship, okay?”

Bellamy could hardly contain himself, but once he remembered the things that had been said between the two of them, he sobered. It wasn’t just him and Clarke that was a mess. Or not even just him and Clarke and Murphy and Raven. It was all four of them. The tangled web of pain and lies that they had all put on each other. 

“Right." He blew out a breath and went on, "Fuck, I’m sorry, Murphy. About all of it. It’s honestly all my fault any of this happened.”

Murphy snorted and Bellamy frowned, but before he could ask why, he told him, “I’m not about to let you take all the credit for the sheer destruction the four of us left in our wake. That would hardly help my rep.” 

Bellamy rolled his eyes but said nothing, and he continued, “I know you fucked up, you know you fucked up. That is enough for me.” 

Murphy paused and Bellamy wondered what he was thinking, what he really wanted to say.

“And here’s the thing: I realized that I could cut you and Raven out forever. If I wanted to. The thing is, sadly enough, I don’t. So we’re gonna have to figure something else out. I’m not talking about Raven right now. Or you and Clarke. Or Jesus, Clarke and Raven. You and me, alright? Let’s just focus on not killing each other. I think that’s the least we can do, for our friends and each other.”

Bellamy grinned, despite everything in him that didn't want to feel any kind of happiness, and couldn’t stop himself from saying, “And you called _me_ the romantic one.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Murphy responded, but he sensed that he was smiling as he did. 

They told each other they’d meet up for a drink later in the week and then Murphy hung up. Bellamy tried to tell himself that things were going to be okay. He knew it was much more complicated than that though. The four of them had so much to figure out, to talk through, to try and move past. If that was even possible, but if Murphy or Clarke wanted to try, then he wouldn't ever give up. He'd do everything he could. 

Before he could psych himself out, he sent Clarke a text. Nothing like all the things he wanted to say. The kind of things he’d said out on her patio the night of the party. She didn’t want any of that, he felt it. So, he went with something simple. It was an old joke from college. Something all of their friends used to tease them, but he knew that it resonated with Clarke, that it was important to her. 

_imessage: clarke_

**Bellamy:** the head and the heart?

For seven terrifying minutes, she didn’t reply, and he started to think she never would. He told himself that that was her right. That even that single text was asking a lot from her. Even though Murphy’s call had given him hope, that didn’t actually mean anything was remotely okay. That it ever would be again. Then, a miracle happened. 

**Clarke:** the head and the heart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading ❤︎
> 
> Find me on tumblr (@animmortalist)


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